[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/UTPkRs4.png[/img] [color=#758173][H1]Mina Blackwood[/H1][/color][/center] [color=#758173]Time:[/color] Evening [color=#758173]Location:[/color] Banquet Hall [color=#758173]Attire:[/color] [url=https://i.imgur.com/fhncIJ0.jpeg]Dress & Hair[/url] [color=#758173]Interaction:[/color] [@ReusableSword] Roman [color=#758173]Mentions:[/color] [@Helo] Callum/Clarence, [@SilverPaw] Wulfric, [@princess] King Edin & Queen Alibeth, [@Oso]. Killian [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/BCGMDwO.png[/img][/center] Mina didn’t speak as she returned from the corner of the banquet hall. She moved with measured poise, but the calm she wore was just that–a carefully placed mask. Her thoughts were still tangled around the conversation she’d had with Roman, barely minutes ago. They’d kept to a quiet corner, away from the worst of the spectacle, but even in the hush of distance, his words had pierced through her like splinters. Not the words themselves–those had been polished and precise, spoken in their shared dialect like they often did. But the message? That had come from his hands. Three gentle squeezes. [i]Nothing. Control. Best.[/i] Each word a lie, hidden in plain sight. And then he’d mispronounced her name. Roman had never done that before. Not once. Not even when drunk. Not even when grieving. It was deliberate. A flare in the dark. A message meant only for her. He was warning her. And whatever had its hooks in him… it wasn’t just affecting his tongue. It was something deeper, something older. For a moment, she wondered if it was something similar to what she’d already seen flickering behind Prince Callum’s eyes. That same hollow shine. That same eerie calm. [color=#758173][i]No,[/i][/color] she’d thought. [color=#758173][i]Not calm. Caged.[/i][/color] She had responded with a soft squeeze of her own. [color=#758173][i]I hear you. I’m with you. I’ll help you.[/i][/color] Then her voice followed, careful and controlled, [color=#758173]“If you say nothing’s wrong, then I believe you. Whatever you think is best… I support you. And I’ll help however I can.”[/color] A script. A shield. A promise. She’d barely had time to let the weight of it settle when the room shifted again. Boots. Dark cloaks. The chill that preceded a storm. The witch hunter entered. Mina didn’t flinch, but her body tensed beneath her gown. The presence of a hunter wasn’t surprising, she had always known the penalty for her kind was fire. But it wasn’t supposed to get [i]this[/i] close. Not here. Not [i]now.[/i] And then came Wulfric’s voice. Cold. Clear. A sword disguised as truth. Accusation. Alibeth. Queen. A witch. The guards moved like wolves on blood, and the air inside the hall thickened with tension so sharp it could cut skin. Mina kept her expression neutral, but inside, her lungs felt tight. Not just from fear, but from the new reality clicking into place. Magic hadn’t just become more dangerous. It had become hunted. Before stepping away, she had touched Roman’s arm again, murmuring low beneath the din, [color=#758173]“End your night here.”[/color] A suggestion in tone, not in content. [color=#758173]“You’re not alone.”[/color] Another promise. She didn’t wait for a reply. She couldn’t. As Edin ordered the guests to leave and the hall began to ripple with confusion and motion, Mina weaved gracefully through the shifting crowd. Her steps were light, careful, almost detached–but inside, everything was tightening. She reached her uncle at last. And for the first time all night, without a word, she slipped her arm through his. To anyone else, it was a simple gesture. But to Sebastian Blackwood, it would speak volumes.