[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/WKs4WNh.png[/img] [color=#9E664C][b]Time:[/b] Evening of Ignis 10[/color] [color=#9E664C][b]Location:[/b] Danrose Castle[/color] [color=#9E664C][b]Interactions/Mentions: Marina [@princess], Lucian [@HylianRose], Mina [@Tae], Nolan [@Remram], Stratya [@CitrusArms][/b][/color][/center] [color=silver] The way Lord Nolan looked at Marina was respectful and full of admiration… Ambrose did not care for it. Not one bit. There were many sensible reasons for that. The princess was young, the young lord was unfamiliar to him, compliments at court were rarely as harmless as they seemed, and any man who stumbled so openly over one could stumble over worse things if given the chance. It was Ambrose’s duty to notice such things. His duty was to measure the distance between admiration and intention. His duty to decide whether Lord Nolan Edwards was merely awkward, or a problem that required closer attention. Those were all reasonable explanations as to why a knight in Ambrose’s shoes might feel negatively about the interaction… but they did not explain the way Ambrose’s jaw tightened when Marina’s cheeks warmed the way they did. [color=#6C72C6]“I—yes. You too!”[/color] she replied to Nolan, far too quickly. Ambrose’s eyes narrowed by the smallest degree. The response was ridiculous. Endearingly so, which only made it worse. But also, thankfully, his response was just subtle enough that perhaps no one even saw. Marina continued. [color=#6C72C6]“I meant lovely back to you in a very manly and masculine way,”[/color] Marina informed him, hands settling on her hips as if posture alone could rescue dignity. [i][color=#6C72C6]“Obviously.”[/color][/i] Ambrose looked away before his expression betrayed him. [i] [color=#9E664C]Absurd girl.[/color][/i] The thought came too fondly, and so he crushed it into something more acceptable. [i] [color=#9E664C]Reckless princess.[/color][/i] There… that was better. A few moments later, the lovely Captain Stratya Durmand approached. Ambrose noticed her before she arrived. There was purpose in her step, but also the warmth he had gotten to know from her. She came toward them dressed not as some delicate ornament of court, but as herself, and Ambrose found his attention settling on her with a steadiness he could not quite blame just on his duties to be vigilant. The military dress suited her. Gods, it suited her in all of her glory. Deep navy and rich burgundy, gold cord and polished buttons, medals glinting like small captured suns against the strength of her chest. A broad belt cinched her waist, emphasizing the hard-earned authority of her bearing rather than hiding it. The fur mantle over her shoulders somehow gave her silhouette a softness despite her formidable appearance. But that was not all he noticed. There was the brown tint of her hair, gathered with care but not tamed into lifeless perfection. The curve of her mouth, that suited both laughter and command. The kindness in her eyes... There was beauty in every inch of the ballroom tonight, arranged in silk, pearls, powder, and practiced poses. Stratya’s beauty stood out to him in ways others could not. Her beauty was not artificial, nor was it performative or reliant on those very silks and gimmicks. It was natural, it was real, and she carried every bit of that beauty perfectly. [color=peru]“Ambrrose,”[/color] she said, his name softened and reshaped by the rough music of her accent. [color=peru]“Would you dance with me?”[/color] For a breath, Ambrose simply looked at her. The offer was convenient. Mercifully so. It gave him a path out of the press of faces and feelings crowding him from every side. Away from Mina’s lowered gaze. Away from Lucian’s watching eyes. Away from Lord Nolan Edwards looking at Marina the way he had. Away from the tangled, ugly thing inside his chest that had begun the evening as duty and had since become something much less obedient. But her offer was not just merely convenient. That was the problem. He also [i]wanted[/i] to accept. Not just because it would remove him from the group or because it allowed him to breathe. Not only because the dance floor would still keep Marina & her brother within view and within reach if danger came. No, it was more than that. He wanted to accept because it was Stratya asking, and because a piece of him had craved her attention since his time with her and Marina at the shops. His gaze flicked briefly to Marina out of instinct. Much to his chagrin, she was already watching. Of course she was. Marina missed a great deal and noticed far too much, often in the least convenient order possible. Her eyes held that bright, terrifying spark that meant a declaration was coming before wisdom could stop it. [color=#6C72C6]“Okay! Ambrose, you are dismissed to the alluring, the darling, Captain Stratya!”[/color] Ambrose closed his eyes for half a breath. Of course Marina would make a display of it all. Of course she would dismiss him in such a public way. Never subtle, the princess, at least not when he wanted her to be. But what she said… Alluring. He opened his eyes again. What she said had not been inaccurate at all. [color=#6C72C6]“But now everyone’s eyes on Marnie, please!”[/color] Marina continued, pointing toward her own face with the full authority of a princess and the full dignity of a child demanding the stage at a family supper. Ambrose allowed himself the smallest exhale through his nose and checked the room as Marina spoke. Lucian was close enough to Marina to serve her brotherly shield. Lord Nolan and Lord Drake stood near, more awkward than threatening. Mina was near enough to still be a wound to him, but her and Marina adored one another. There were guards posted at the edges of the ballroom, though Ambrose trusted his own eyes more than theirs. But there was no immediate threat, no insanely exposed angle he could not cross quickly from the dance floor if he had to. He could step away. At the very least for one dance. His gaze lingered on the princess for only a moment, as she wrapped Mina in her arms, before he forced it away. Lingering would do him no good, and Ambrose had already given enough of himself tonight to things that did not deserve to keep taking. He turned back to Stratya. [color=#9E664C]“Captain Durmand.”[/color] His voice came out steadier than he felt. He inclined his head to her, formal enough for the room, but his eyes did not leave hers. [color=#9E664C]“If you are willing to risk your toes on a poor dancer like me, I would be honored.”[/color] The faintest dry edge of humor touched his words. Then he offered her his gloved hand, his eyes softening in anticipation of her taking it. [color=#9E664C]“Shall we?”[/color] [/color]