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[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/aJK9ifX.png[/img]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/ZU37SiB.png[/img]
[color=19D4AD]Interaction:[/color] [@Silverspring] Violet [@HylianRose] Nora [@Chrys] Amira
[color=19D4AD]Mention:[/color] [@Oso] Cassius [@Potter] Olivia
[img]https://i.imgur.com/sPIxd99.png[/img][/center]

The herald’s staff struck the floor as Emil stood at the mouth of the ball, envisioning what the patrons would look like as corpses. 

[color=green]“Count Emil Schmidt of Hartworth!”[/color]

Hartworth was a rainy, smoky place comprised of factories, black stone, and grief. It was the sort of place that made people grateful to only visit. Count Emil Schmidt, however, entered as if he had stepped out of the sun.

He wore mourning colors too beautifully. Black velvet, a gold waistcoat, and gloves fitted cleanly. His red hair was brushed back in a charming manner, and his smile came easily, warmly, as though the world had never once given him reason to frown.

There were many in the room who remembered that smile fondly. There were many who remembered it and looked away. 

He made a beeline for the King, darting in front of Calbert and Liliane as they had been making their way across the room. At the dais, Emil bowed deeply. [color=19D4AD] “Your Majesty,”[/color] he greeted pleasantly. [color=19D4AD]“Hartworth sends its loyalty, and I bring my own. It is an honor to see Caesonia standing so proudly tonight.”[/color]

Edin regarded him with interest. [color=DDB775]“Count Schmidt. You arrive at a solemn hour.”[/color]

As Emil smiled at the King, he wondered how many knew truly terrible that vile mind of his was. But Emil didn’t hate him for it. Much the opposite.  After all, the king indulged in excess just as the Dark Gods intended for them all. [color=19D4AD]“Indeed, Majesty. And yet that is precisely why this evening matters. Lesser men would have hidden behind grief. You have given the kingdom light, order, and something to look toward.”[/color]  His eyes briefly swept the room while he spoke, making note of the expressions he caught ahold of. Grief made people careless. Fear made them honest. Tonight, the whole ballroom would be full of small, useful truths. [color=19D4AD]“Fear leaves people searching for certainty,”[/color] Emil continued. [color=19D4AD]“Tonight, they see their king still seated where he belongs.”[/color]

[color=DDB775]“You speak well.”[/color]

[color=19D4AD]“I try to speak truth attractively,” [/color]Emil replied with a charming little smile. [color=19D4AD] “It is usually better received.”[/color]

Edin gave the faintest approving look. [color=DDB775]“Enjoy the evening, Count.”[/color]

Emil bowed again and turned back toward the ballroom. His smile remained easy, almost boyish. Beauty interested him, of course. It always had. But fear interested him more.

Cassius Damien stood nearby, Calbert’s son from another woman, wearing the family name like a borrowed coat he had somehow made fashionable. He was beautiful like his father, perhaps more so, though there was a weight to him that made the beauty darker and far more interesting. He stood beside some pretty no-name girl with strawberry-blonde hair, close enough to suggest familiarity. Emil made a mental note to approach them eventually. Something was amusing about the pair already, something worth pressing a thumb against to see what bruised.

From what he had heard, this Cassius Damien had not been Cassius Damien for very long. For far longer, he had been Cassius Vael, a mercenary with a reputation that had traveled through circles where reputations were usually purchased in blood. Efficient, they called him. Clean, when the work required cleanliness, and otherwise not at all. Emil’s gaze lingered on him a moment longer, only long enough to wonder whether Calbert and Cassius bled the same shade, and whether either man would resent the comparison more than the wound.

Then his attention moved to the other Damien.

Violet Damien. 

And oh, how she differed since he had last seen her. Like the male offspring, Violet also wore a heaviness beyond her years. Not merely older, but altered in a way that made the ordinary courtly descriptions feel suddenly useless. Violet Damien had once been pretty in the expected way, the sort of noble daughter men complimented because it was socially convenient. Now there was something else in her. 

A stillness. [i]A wrongness. [/i]

The kind of beauty that made a person pause before deciding whether they wished to admire it or step back from it.

Emil admired it, admired her as her scarlet eyes caught the light. She wore the heaviness well. Better than most. Better than Cassius, perhaps. Violet looked like a woman who had been handed a secret and had not yet decided whether it was a curse or a crown.

His eyes dropped briefly to the ring on her hand. He did not approach her. Not yet. Instead, Emil merely waited until her gaze moved close enough to catch his. Then he smiled.

It was not the charming smile he had given the King. Not the bright, harmless smile he wore for women who wished to believe handsome men were kind. This one was slower and far too knowing. 

Then, as if nothing had happened, he continued on, accepting a drink from a passing servant and drifting toward a pair of lovely young women he had already decided looked soft enough to bruise. One was bright and jeweled, dressed in blue, smiling as if the world had not yet taught her to be afraid. The other was darker, quieter, with a haunted prettiness that made him think she would startle beautifully if approached the right way. [color=19D4AD]“Good evening,”[/color] Emil said brightly with a kind smile. [color=19D4AD]“I do hope I am not intruding. Though I admit, I have never been good at resisting beautiful company.”[/color]

He lifted his glass. [color=19D4AD]“A remarkable night, isn’t it? One hardly knows whether to dance, mourn, or drink.”[/color] His smile widened as he tilted the glass in midair, watching the red wine shift naturally to one side, brightening beneath the chandelier light. [color=19D4AD]“So naturally, I intend to do all three, don’t you?”[/color]

Then he drank in the sight of the two brunettes, smiling all the while, and gave them a sweeping bow. [color=19D4AD]“Count Emil Schmidt,”[/color] he introduced himself. [color=19D4AD]“Entirely at your service.”[/color][/color]