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[img]https://i.imgur.com/7Nzfip8.png[/img]
[sub][color=#39FF14]Interaction:[/color][@CitrusArms] [color=#CD853F]Stratya[/color]
[color=#39FF14]Mention:[/color][@Redking0380] [color=#EFA73B]Fareed[/color] [@HylianRose] [color=#F0E68C]Nik[/color][/sub]
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The man in black approached as though the group had been expecting him, his green eyes fixed on [color=#CD853F]Stratya[/color] with an intimacy that was rather unsettling considering they were strangers. At least to [color=#CD853F]Stratya[/color]’s knowledge, that is. 

He knew her name from Church files before he knew her face, from the Lancaster inquiry and the troubling little gaps left around the body they never found. To him, the late Queen’s death had not merely changed the court; it had made room to cut away certain indulgences, and a woman wearing command was chief among them. Trusting Alibeth with responsibility had been Edin's first mistake. Trusting this... woman... to be his captain would be his next.

He did not even glance at the [color=#EFA73B]towering Alidasht man[/color] beside her. He did not acknowledge the [color=#F0E68C]dark-haired gentleman[/color] either. They might as well have been part of the decor.

[color=#39FF14]“Captain Durmand,”[/color] he greeted as he came to stand before her, his smile forming [i]very[/i] slowly and unpleasantly pleased. [color=#39FF14]“There you are.”[/color]

His gaze dragged over her openly, taking in her mouth, her shoulders, the strength beneath her formal wear, and the hands that could never quite pretend to be soft. When his eyes returned to hers, they carried not desire, but judgment. [color=#39FF14]“I had wondered whether the armor made you look masculine,”[/color] he said, stepping closer than courtesy allowed. [color=#39FF14]“But no. It seems Primitus shaped you the way intended beneath all.”[/color]

The sunburst pendant at his chest caught the ballroom light as he looked down at her hands. [color=#39FF14]“Rough hands. Scarred skin. A soldier’s posture... A man’s work written plainly over a woman’s body.”[/color] His smile widened. [color=#39FF14]“Tell me, Captain, do men still pretend not to notice? Or have they simply learned to admire you from far enough away that they need not imagine?”[/color]

He let the words sit there, as if he had offered her a kindness. [color=#39FF14]“...Poor thing...But perhaps mercy comes in strange forms. The Queen is dead, and with her, I imagine, whatever foolish tolerance kept you dressed in command. King Edin has always loved order, and order does not place women above proper men.”[/color]

He came closer and whispered, [color=#39FF14]“You must know what comes next. Dismissal. Humiliation... Some lesser post, perhaps, if they are feeling charitable.”[/color]

His eyes moved over her again, slower this time, as though he were deciding what parts of her were salvageable.
[color=#39FF14]“And yet…”[/color] he murmured, [color=#39FF14]“Primitus teaches that even iron may be bent beneath sufficient heat.”[/color]

He extended his hand, not asking so much as presenting the next step.
[color=#39FF14]“Dance with me.”[/color] the man demanded. [color=#39FF14]“...You will find, Captain, that when the world is finished applauding your little rebellion, there are still men willing to show you where a woman belongs.”[/color]

His smile returned. [color=#39FF14]“And I am not a man who enjoys being refused.”[/color][/color]