---

---

His smile didn't fade; his eyes didn't harden. Nothing except his racing heartbeat betrayed his inner feelings. The herald's announcement of Lady Violet Damien sent a brief, sharp tang of anxiety through his chest. He didn't make eye contact, barely glancing her way, but he saw it all the same: resolve and beauty. She moved with a quiet purpose, one he intended to steer entirely clear of while they played their respective games.

Ranya's voice pulled him out of his inner turmoil. With a forced, contented sigh, he smiled and nodded to the pair as Munir hurried the Shehzadi away. "Hopefully, we get to talk again soon," he called after them. He watched the two for a moment longer. Whatever the topic was, it must have been truly important for Munir to pull her away so abruptly. Something to ask about another time.

Sylvia's words brought his focus back to their conversation about sweets and tarts. "A fanatic? I would never accuse you of such a thing." He feigned being hurt by the accusation. Something about her demeanor told him she was nervous; grand affairs like this often did that to people. "You are simply an explorer of all things sweet and savory. One must always train and refine their palate."

His eyes swept over the table, finding a small batch of apple pastries hidden among the others. "And you need a sharp eye to spot the ones that try to hide from you." Plucking two of the pastries from their hiding spot, he offered one to her. "You have always had an interest in the exotic. I do believe the last thing you requested from me was perfume from Alidasht."

He almost lost himself in the soft delight of the pastry, but Sylvia's attention was suddenly drawn to something behind him. Following her gaze, he could definitely see why. Kazumin Nagasa was dancing his way down the stairs toward the King, bearing the best title Roman had heard all night. The sight made him chuckle. Oh, to be so lighthearted—for a brief moment, Roman envied the man.

When he looked back at Sylvia, she looked as though she was trying to hide behind him. A memory of a much smaller version of the young woman flashed in his mind; it was something he fondly remembered her doing during his visits as a teenager. "You're hiding behind me again, Princess," he chuckled, losing himself in the memories of watching over the royal children.

A tap on his arm pulled him from his reverie. Kazu had made his way over to them without Roman even noticing. His attire was strange but somehow fitting. Roman gave Kazu an exaggerated bow and a wide smile. "Forgive me, I did not realize we were in the presence of the great Skip Meister himself." He laughed, drawing a few stares from nearby nobles, but he didn't care. "It's good to see you again, friend. I hope you are doing well."

He accepted the sunflower Kazu offered, tilting his head in amusement. "Oh? For me? You shouldn't have." He tucked the flower into his jacket so it could be seen by all.

With the herald's announcement of another familiar name, Roman turned his attention back to the stairs. Charlotte was striding gracefully down the steps in the most stunning dress he had ever seen her wear. It certainly made her stand out, but what truly caught his attention was the fire in her eyes—that same fierce passion she had displayed just a few nights ago. She was embracing her strength, making a clear statement for all to see.

"Good," he whispered to himself with a proud smile.

"Ah, yes, Kazumin is a good man. You can trust him," Roman said to Sylvia, pulling his focus back to the immediate conversation. "If my memory serves me right, I do believe Kazumin here is a mighty slayer of all things pudding-related." He plucked yet another small treat from the table. "I believe even you, dear Princess, could learn a thing or two from this master."

---

Starry Night ball

Location: Grand Ballroom

@HylianRose
@CitrusArms

---

”Bold strategy. How often does it fail this spectacularly?” Nik asked aloud, watching him.

Fareed hides a smile behind another sip of that mead, watching as the Captain slips off with another stumble. Its impressive how quickly she steadies as she approaches that man she called out to, but he turns back to the two men before him.

”I should ask the same thing of you, is this truly how you try to flirt? Please tell me this is not some culture shock between us Sir Nikolai? I thought myself well versed, but if all the men here are this rude then my sisters might end up with more crimes the suitors!

Time: Night
Location: Ballroom
Attire:imgur.com/TBp3fyc | Magic ring on pointer finger
Interactions:Kira@Potter
Mentions: Count Emil @Princess, Roman @ReusableSword, Alexander @funnyguy



Walking through the crowd, Violet's fingers tapped against her wineglass as she slowly glided across the floor. She wasn’t one to just naturally approach people by interjecting herself into conversations but perhaps this evening she would need too. Alexander did it with such finesse and ease, but Violet felt like a lamb just trying to catch its balance for the first time.

It was strange. And he was nowhere to be found, if she felt herself drowning she only had herself to pull herself up. She could feel her nerves bubbling up inside of her but taking a sip of the wine helped calm them. If only for the moment. If she was going to come face to face with Marek she would need to get her nerves under control.

Passing by each group she took note of who was speaking to who, attempting to ease drop as she slowly strode her way past them. There were so many new faces she didn’t recognize and many she had seen a few times. Though for now it seemed many of the groups were simply introductions or simple conversation. Perhaps when the wine started to run dry the real entertainment would begin.

As she continued to walk further into the sea of gowns and fake smiles, she heard Roman’s voice amongst them daring to not look his way. Her feelings for him and the situation were complicated at best, but his request and reason were enough for her to give into the anger and hatred she still held.

”Can you trust Lord Ravenwood…

No…

The ghostly reminder was all she needed to snap herself out of any curiosity. Attempting to find her attention anywhere else as a distraction from the idea. Pausing for a moment her eye caught onto Count Emil. A name she had heard but a face she did not remember. He moved deliberately through the crowd with a sense of purpose and pose. Even amongst the sea of people, she felt his gaze on her as her scarlet eyes caught his. His eyes cut through her, as if recognizing something he wasn’t able to name.

Then he smiled…

It wasn't flirtation, or even politeness. It felt like an acknowledgement. Violet simply returned his smile with one of her own as the moment passed as quickly as it came.

Looking over her shoulder for a moment while she took a sip of her wine as she finally made her way to one of the tables, setting the glass down on the pristine linen.

”Hi there, how are you?” the voice interrupted. She looked over her shoulder for a moment, her eyes catching hers before turning around. ”I’m Malia. It’s nice to meet you.”

Violet looked at the woman for a moment, the voice wasn’t one she had heard before. Though her appearance did look familiar she couldn’t quite place it.

”Good evening.” she smiled at her softly but the look behind her eye was hard to erase. ”It’s a pleasure Malia, my name is Violet Damien.”

oop

Location: Grand Ballroom
Attire: Attire: Starry Night Attire
Interactions: @Lava Alckon Drake @princess Marina @Tae Mina @Oso Ambrose @HylianRose Lucian @CitrusArms Stratya
Mentions: n/a

---

Why the hell was her bodyguard looking at him as if he just insulted his mother? Nolan did his best to ignore it, maintaining a trained pleasant smile, though it was hard to block out the over six and half foot tall, two hundred something pound living definition of tall, dark, and handsome that had his jaw clenched like he was holding back a river of vitriol looming over him like a god damn obelisk.

It was oppressive, like every action of his was being scrutinized under Ambrose's diligent eye though he understood that was par for the course. There were any number of opportunists seeking to climb the social ladder or to gain some other favor or status within this very room and as knight of Varian personally responsible for Marina's safety it was his duty to suss them out. Of course Nolan knew that—he truly did—though did nothing to ease the unfamiliar sensation gnawing at his nerves, a small and ugly thing paired alongside a fluttering warmth that was equally as much as a stranger to him.

That said warmth had now tinged his cheeks just as it had tinged hers. He had not expected her response to be so swift nor did he expect her face to take on the hue of her hair. At the very least the subject of the matter had been more or less buried though not without earning the interest of her brother, the crowned prince of Varian himself who looked the young noble like he had just found a new toy to amuse himself for the moment. For some reason, that grin reminded him of Drake's so he knew that this was going to bring nothing, but trouble.

He really needed a slice of cake after this, a big one.

Nolan nodded politely in confirmation of the prince's question of his name. The blush in his cheeks had finally faded away, his expression cordial, yet neutral. "Yes, your royal highness you would correct. How may I be of service?"

And then Marina circled back to the subject again that brought the color back to his cheeks once again like a sudden ignition of flame. She obviously realized her mistake in drawing attention to the subject again since she tried to save whatever dignity either of them had with that authoritative stance. "I, um, thank you, Princess Marina." The young noble had responded a little too quickly as well. He cleared his throat. "I understood the intent."

Could the earth open beneath his feet and swallow him within its maw? He could only imagine the unholy amount of teasing that their brothers would bombard on them. All of this was beginning to make his head spin.

And then Knight Captain Durmand waltzed right in asking Ambrose for a dance. While she was a welcomed presence that diverted the dour knight and his prince's attention from Nolan, the addition of another person to keep track of did nothing to help his frazzled mental state.

Great, let's just invite the entire Alidasht delegation too while we're at it.

Princess Marina appeared to be quite overstimulated as well. Her declaration had caused his brows to rise, but it grounded him back to the moment and he focused on her just as she demanded with that same cheeky grin she gave him at the museum. Not a peep escaped his lips while he observed her.

Just how many women in the room would have disregarded social etiquette to throw themselves at their closest and dearest friend? He'd most likely only need one hand to count them though had not seen it as a lack of dignity. It took a great amount of self-assurance to not care what those who did not matter to be that outrageous pointing that finger at him.

It was ever so faint and so brief that if one were not paying attention they would have missed it, but it was there; a rare laugh had bypassed his guarded self.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are very disarming, Princess Marina?" He asked her with a relaxed smile. "If I had known that you had prepared a gift I would have brought you something as well. Just add that to the tally I suppose." It was just purposefully vague enough to leave their nearest and dearest in the dark though their arrangement was still fresh in their minds.

His gaze lingered on her. He knew that he should have been satisfied with this; wishing for more than what he already had went against his very nature. Nolan wished to dance with her, to enjoy her company like he had before away from the potential probing questions of her brother and the watchful eye of her protector. Maybe it was the wine talking? At least that's what he'd tell himself.

But how does one ask? Knight Captain Durmand had made it look so easy.. and maybe because it was? There was no grand gesture or flowery language, it was just a simple question

Steeling himself, he finally asked with a polite bow towards the princess with a hope that it would the anxiety in his eyes. "I know this is abrupt, but if it please you would you care for a dance?"

It was the way the dutiful man had looked at her longer than necessary, the way the rise of his shoulders had slowed and lengthened with his breath, the way the conflicted, anxious emotions on his face seemed to dissolve as he looked at her.

When he turned, Stratya’s eyes followed the bronze gaze to a wound-up Marina. The princess’s eye twitched. The captain wasn’t sure what to expect of that, but it wasn’t to be called, “allurring and darrling,” she repeated to herself softly, amused. A soft giggle and wave of her fingers was the attention she left for Marina as she came back to Ambrose, for a moment watching him carry out one last detail of his duty before he would set it aside, ever so briefly; For her, or perhaps his escape.

Stratya knew the guards were there. She’d checked them as soon as she’d walked away from that churchman, in case she had need of one. While he presented her the opportunity, she let her eyes wander over him. The strength he radiated was accentuated, yet also tamed, by the black and gold trimmed in red. She found her eye tracing his figure through the embroidery that framed it, all duty and power. When she returned, and he turned to her, when his bright eyes found hers once more, once more did he seem to soften. Suddenly, he seemed to belong somewhere else; fishing in the forest river, maybe, while she spooked fish toward him.

She couldn’t help a small chuckle at his dry wit. The little bit of laughter melted into a warm smile as she reached her hand for his, “o’ courrse. Serr Ambrrose.” A sheepishness passed through her expression as she corrected herself. Her steps, as the two of them moved onto the dance floor, would fall beside his, not in front or behind. “Forrtuna’ely, dance is one of t’ things nobles do tha’ I’ve taken quite well tae.” As different as ballroom dancing was, it was still dancing.

Time: Evening
Location: Grand Ballroom
Interactions: @HylianRose Nora, @princess Count Emil, @Potter Elena and @Remram Magnus

Looking from the other young woman to this older man, Amira's confusion just grew. She smiled at the new woman joining them, giving her a slight head nod, but anyone could see the worry on her face as her brow furrowed.

"It is a joy to meet you, Lady Elena," she said in a soft voice, her etiquette training taking over. Yet Amira's mind seemed to be somewhere else completely.

What were they talking about? What had she missed? Why had no one told her something had happened?! Was it because her cousins truly had no interest in her or, was it simply supposed to be obvious? Why had her own brother not mentioned it earlier? She knew she had just met him, but surely -

The word "pet" slid across her skin and caused a disgusted shiver to run down her spine, as she was shocked back to the current moment by Count Emil's words.

"I - I," She took a moment to try to bring her thoughts together. She didn't know why, maybe it was the nickname, or maybe it was the way he had inserted himself into the conversation but Amira found herself not wanting to be around Count Emil much longer, "I believe my.. friend will tell me more later."

She looked at Nora with her large brown eyes, hoping in that moment she had not overstepped.

Suddenly she was shocked by not only the approach of a large man making his presence known behind the count. For a moment, Amira was unsure if she was more worried or relieved. Then, before she could even make up her mind, a bouquet was being put into her hands.

Staring, stunned, at the bouquet and the servant, her mouth gaped open for far too long. Soon, a bright red shade was covering her face, and she was calling back to the servant in confusion, "I - I do not know a Magnus! This - this must be a mistake."

It seemed as if the servant either didn't hear her or didn't care because she was awkwardly left standing with a stunning dark bouquet of flowers. Turning back to look at the other woman, completely astounded, she just found herself repeating the words, "I... do not know a Magnus."

Nevertheless, she found herself hugging the flowers close to her chest.

color:ffce00
-Grand Ball Room-
-outfit-
-Interaction:@Tae Ranya @Remram Askel @AuthenticTomb Aslam
-Mention: @princess Dear Uncle Hafiz

Their uncle, naturally, chose that exact moment to announce the news to the entire room. The prince and his sister had clearly wanted to keep it quiet for now, but Hafiz never could resist grabbing the reins of a moment and making sure everyone knew whose hands they sat in. Classic uncle behavior. Ambition wrapped in silk and smiles.

Munir was already turning over possible responses in his head when Ranya approached the group.

Ah. There she was.

Not the carefully sculpted image of Suna’s Chosen. Not the untouchable symbol draped in ceremony and expectation. No, this was Ranya. The fire underneath it all. The spark in her eyes had returned in full force, vibrant and untamed, like she’d finally decided to stop hiding behind the veil everyone else preferred her to wear.

"Well. Now that that little performance is out of the way, I think we’ve earned another drink."

As if the universe itself answered to him, Munir casually motioned for another round, servants moving almost immediately. He lifted his fresh glass with an easy grin.

"Now this is a proper toast. To a spectacular night, dangerously attractive company, and a future packed with every joy imaginable and absolutely none of the miserable fears people keep trying to dump on us."

He raised the glass toward the group before glancing sideways at his sister.

At her question, Munir leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to sound conspiratorial.

"Honestly? I don’t know. Think you could probably do better."

He let the silence sit for a beat, wearing the most convincing expression of fake seriousness he could manage.

Then he cracked.

"Relax, sister, I’m kidding. If your love’s real, and he treats you the way you deserve, then you won’t hear objections from me."

To the Varian prince, Munir leaned in closer, the easy grin still sitting on his face, though there was suddenly far less warmth behind it. The kind of smile that existed purely to hide teeth.

"Careful now, my friend. You’re holding the single most precious thing in Alidasht in your hands, and men have killed for far less."

His gaze flicked briefly toward his uncle before returning to the prince.

"And unfortunately for you, my dear uncle has noticed. Which means the game stops being romantic and starts becoming dangerous. Fast."

Munir swirled the drink lazily in his hand, utterly calm.

"Now, I don’t take you for a coward. Quite the opposite, actually. I think you’re capable enough to survive what comes next. But survival and understanding are two very different things, prince. I hope you understand exactly what you’ve stepped into."

His voice lowered another degree, smooth as silk and twice as sharp.

"People see me and think I’m reckless. A drunk. A rake. A charming disaster with expensive taste and no discipline. Let them. It keeps them stupid."

Munir’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"But hear me clearly. There is nothing in this world I value above my siblings. Nothing. If she suffers because of your failures, your hesitation, or your stupidity... then whatever becomes of you afterward will be the least tragic part of the story."

Then, just as suddenly, the danger vanished behind that radiant, careless grin once more.

"But hey. No pressure."

She still wasn't sure why she had bothered turning up. She hated parties, she hated being around so many strangers at once. Like sure, she dealt with strangers all the time as part of her training as a doctor, but that didn't mean Freyja liked it. She just tolerated it. Besides, that was work time. This was her own private time, and she would rather be reading a book by the candlelight. Or purifying her equipment. Or pulling her teeth out one by one. Literally anything else.

But when she got the invitation, she knew she didn't have much of a choice. She didnt know why she got one, but it would be a bad look to turn it down. And Stratya had told her she needed to blend in more...so here she was, regretting her life choices and considering not for the first time, maybe it would've been better had she just died in that forest. Hyperbole for sure, overdramatic absolutely, and she would get over herself later. For now, she would just stew in misery.

She wondered if Stratya was here also, the blonde fidgeting with the hood of her cloak. The worst part had to be the fancy clothes she was wearing, even if she begrudgingly agreed it was a fine outfit, and it was the only dress of any sort anyone could convince her to buy. She liked the black over the dark red, and how it was accented with gold embroidery. Most importantly, it covered her almost entirely, with the top half more like a long sleeved blouse than a dress, meaning she didn't have to worry about people staring at the scar on her back. She still did get some unwanted stares here and there, but that was for other reasons she didn't want to think about and just ignored them.

Her amethyst gaze would instead focus its attention on scanning the inhabitants of the ballroom. Sure, there were plenty of nobility, rich folk and the like here who it would be wise to rub shoulders with, get in the good graces of. It would no doubt help careers down the line, hers included, or simply being in the good graces of such individuals was never harmful. She knew a couple of people from the hospital were certainly doing that here today, much to her disdain. But she wasn't about empty flattery and pointless small talk much, being the more direct sort. She was hoping to catch Stratya and stay with her, use her as an excuse to fraternize as little as humanly possible.

But the place was...much bigger than she was expecting. Or was there simply more people than she was expecting? Maybe even both. Either way, she wasn't spotting her immediately, and she can only keep a low profile going for so long before people came up and talked to her, whether it be because they were extroverted social butterflies, or because they were drunk on liquid courage to approach her despite the scowl on her face, or maybe even because they were interested in the girl who seemed out of her depths, despite looking the part. She even had half a mind to cast a spell to find Stratya, but quickly scuppered the idea entirely.

Even after spending over a decade in this era, she had yet to grown used to the fact they demonized and hated magicae to the extent they did. And not wanting to cause trouble for Stratya, or get herself killed for that matter considering what happened to the Queen herself earlier today, she restrained herself, instead finding comfort by rolling her fingers over the gemstone necklace she wore. A keepsake given to her by Stratya. Maybe she should find someone to speak to instead? That would be more comfortable than being approached by strangers, trying to charm her with honeyed words or worse, people who wanted to talk to her for the sake of talking to someone. Those people were the worst kind, because you can't even excuse yourself from them and their yapping...

If nothing else, if people got on her nerves too much, she did have this cane that was mostly for ornamental purposes. While she was normally against violence of any sort, she would probably be able to sleep at night if she used it on someone annoying or creeping her out too much. Besides, she was a doctor in training, she could just patch them up afterwards. Probably. Maybe. If she felt like it.

Wait, she was internally rambling way too much right now. She was getting stares for just standing there, menancingly so long. She should try something. Maybe a smile at the people-and they ran off. Gah, Stratya always said her smiles could use work. Oh well, maybe she could use them to scare people off instead? At least till she finished surveying the room(s) to either find Stratya, or someone who didn't seem like too much of a pain to talk to.