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[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/3EdPgr4.png[/img][/center]
[Color=salmon][b]Time:[/b][/color] Evening
[Color=salmon][b]Location:[/b][/color] Grand Ballroom
[Color=salmon][b]Attire:[/b][/color] 
[Color=salmon][b]Interaction:[/b][/color] Charlotte, Edin
[Color=salmon][b]Mention:[/b][/color] Alexander

The short yet meaningful negotiation that occurred between Lorenzo and Charlotte in the carriage may have saved the little dignity the duke had with the Sorian court. Instead of trying to appeal to Alidasht royalty through imitation, Lorenzo agreed that the reasonable thing to do tonight was to give those in the ball’s attendance less to gossip about. 

A part of Lorenzo couldn't care less about what others thought or whispered about the intentions of his garb, but he also knew it was those thoughts and whispers that would threaten to undo any shred of reputation  Charlotte had managed to hold onto despite Lorenzo's many blunders. But there was something else that played a hand in his decision to change his clothing.

There was something off about Charlotte this evening. 

Sure, she was just as sweet and beautiful as he knew her to be, but her appearance gave off something more. Lorenzo wanted to assume it was an effect of something positive happening with her, but he wasn’t [i]that[/i] foolish. 

And so, he-

[Color=crimson][i]Let her do as she wants. It's too late to change anything.[/i][/color]

Between Charlotte’s talking in the carriage, Lorenzo-

[Color=crimson][i]Let her do as she wants. It's too late to change anything.[/i][/color]

Lorenzo parted his lips slightly and-

[Color=crimson][i]Let her do as she wants. It's too late to change anything.[/i][/color]

Every thought of attempting to confront Charlotte was met with the compelling advice delivered by none other than Alexander Deacon on the night of the banquet… except, Lorenzo, here and now, believed the advice to be of his own making and rationale.

And so, Lorenzo… simply sat quietly, nodding along to Charlotte’s words until the two eventually arrived at the Grand Ballroom. They were late just as they were before, all eyes in their direction, except there were no palanquins, sultans, or tigers in their wake, which meant those eyes were truly on them-

No. Those who looked and witnessed their entrance were solely focused on Charlotte. The truth was made even more apparent as Lorenzo slowed his stride to allow his stepdaughter to walk forth. It was as if a spotlight unseen by everyone else was on her as she held the attention of so many hostage with her appearance alone. 

And though he wanted to question what was happening, he wouldn’t… No, he couldn’t. Again, not the words themselves but the shackles that they represented encaged him, while the man responsible for it remained absent, unseen, but likely with that confident, charming grin he always wore on his face. Proof that this cruel game Alexander played did not always require his presence. 

Lorenzo drifted slowly across the ballroom floor, making his way, firstly, to King Danrose. 

[color=salmon]“Your grace, King Danrose, apologies for the tardiness. I had to make sure we Vikenas stuck out like the sorest thumb anyone’s ever had! Big, bright, and impossible to ignore!”[/color] Lorenzo boasted lightheartedly

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