Location: Danrose Castle
Time: 10th of Ignis
Interactions: Munir @Infinite Cosmos, Nora @HylianRose, Amira @Chrys, Aslam @AuthenticTomb, and Duke Vikena @FunnyGuy



His cousins were delightful company to say the least. He took the drink matching his preferred color and took a sip. The fruity aroma hit first, followed by the smooth fall of the liquid that consisted of cranberries and vodka. The mixture was so pure, so perfect – it’s sweetness made Farim smile a bit more than he wanted to at the moment. But he took one look at Munir eyeing up the Varian nobility and knew that there was something….unspoken there.

”So…it seems as though you have found something here. But I do not think it is what you are wanting.” Farim stood straight, now turning a full eye as the one brown haired girl was conversing with Amira. Munir had the look of someone registering a certain event in the back of his mind. Farim found it amusing at the very least and did his own registering of his registering – how ironic.

That’s when the commotion broke out towards the King. It seemed that Duke Vikena, ever the people person. ”I suppose I should say the capital hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows…” He had liked Sorian for what it was worth. At the outset it seemed like there was lots to enjoy, and the people were friendly enough. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized there was definitely….a lot wrong with this place. At the very least things were turning out to be very bad.

Magic users being hunted. Queens being burned. The holy scripture of the gods being tantamount to ultimate authority. And a King who can barely hold onto his authority without having it be stated forthright a thousand times over. But as quickly as the debacle arrived it was dissolved. The quintet of people now being ushered off – likely before some more important guests made their way into the gala.

”Care to share your story, cousin? Or does it still sting to think about her?” He spoke plainly, but gently to the man, not wanting to make him relive something that would ruin his night further.

”Lady Thea. Would you make the happiest man here by giving me your first dance, and all the ones after?”

Drake looked at her earnestly, like someone who had been gone all day finally coming home to a warm hearth. A warmth that would spread through him and remind him that despite all that happened beyond this moment — it would all be okay if she was there with him.

Thea spun round, nearly sending her wine glass flying, but caught it just in time before tossing it onto some poor servant’s tray, and didn’t even care if it spilled. Her cheeks went hot, all pink and obvious, the second her mismatched eyes landed on him. The whole bloody ballroom, all the gossip and doom about the execution, just faded out. It was only him now. Her heart started up that wild, ridiculous thumping, the kind that made her want to laugh and scream at the same time, and of course, it was all his fault.

She grinned, all soft and stupid, none of her usual bite left. She couldn’t help it. She stepped right up to him, close enough to smell whatever expensive cologne he’d splashed on tonight, her fingers shaking as she slid her hand up his arm. Their outfits matched perfectly, something they certainly planned, and this in itself made her heart skip a beat. It marked her as his and vice versa, and she could hardly believe this was her real life.

"Oh, Drake..." she breathed, her voice dropping into a tender, velvety whisper meant entirely for his ears. She looked up at him through her lashes, her heart so full it almost ached, though she couldn't resist a tiny, affectionate spark of mischief. "You know, it is incredibly unfair of you to walk up and look at me like that. I completely forgot what I was saying to my friends, and my heart is beating so loud I’m worried the orchestra might hear it."

She leaned a fraction closer, her pale-blonde waves brushing against his shoulder as she let herself melt into his warmth, completely and utterly under his spell. "However, you can have the first dance, and the last one, and every single one in between. Truthfully... I’d let you keep me on the dance floor until my feet fall off, just so I don't have to let go of your hand." She bit her lip, her cheeks deepening in color at her own honesty, before she gave his arm a gentle, teasing squeeze. "Has your night been eventful so far?"

Drake had hardly considered the present company. He looked briefly over Thea’s shoulder to see a group of smiling women, all giggling like schoolgirls before breaking away to their own conversation. He would apologize, but words lost him as Drake found his gaze wandering back to her. The look Thea gave him unraveled the man in all the right ways. Her soft touch against his arm prompted a wave of goosebumps to rise.

”Now now. If I’m bringing you off your feet, it wouldn’t be here.” He whispered, playfully teasing her back with honeyed words and an implication that would send others into a gossip frenzy.

Her body was pulled in as Drake wrapped his arm around her. His hand tilted her chin up to him, with his thumb resting just below her lip. It was like he knew just how infuriatingly unfair he was being with every movement. Every stroke of his hand against the lace of her dress and her fair skin was filled with both love and a growing sensation of need.

How could someone be right with the woman he loved and still need more of her? Still crave every passing moment like his chest might turn in on itself and send his heart into a blaze. Oh right, she just asked about his night. Drake blinked, keeping his thumb pressed right there as he calmly answered her.

”About as eventful as it could be. There was a commotion between the King and the Vikenas, a performance from a young lad by the name of Kazoo the Skip Meister. And I have successfully paired my brother up with a charming young lady from Varian.” Drake squeezed her hip with the hand that wrapped around her. ”And do forgive my familiarity and closeness. Can you tell how much I’ve pined for you since we last talked? I think we should acknowledge how unfair that is.” He said with a grin.

The heat of his thumb resting just below her lip sent a warm shiver down her spine, pooling somewhere deep and hot at her core. Her mind immediately took his teasing comment about 'bringing her off her feet' and ran wild with it, creating vivid and scandalous images that had nothing to do with dancing. She practically melted into his side, her skin tingling everywhere his hand pressed against the lace of her gown.

Her cheeks flared a brilliant crimson, and she suddenly found it hard to remember how to breathe, let alone speak. His touch completely unraveled her, sending her thoughts spiraling into wicked territory. "K-Kazoo the... wait, what?" she stumbled. Her usual sharp wit vanished as she blinked up at him, her mismatched eyes wide and dazed. "You... you paired your brother up with a—" She cut herself off, her eyes darting down to his lips as his thumb brushed her skin. The grip on her hip made her brain short-circuit.

Losing the battle against her rising desire, she leaned into his embrace, tightening her fingers on his jacket. "You are awful," she gasped, breathless laughter escaping her. "An absolute menace, Lord Drake. You pine for me? You're the one holding me like... like you want to eat me alive right here in front of the entire court, and frankly, I—"

She stopped abruptly, her face turning even redder (if that was even possible) as she realized what she was about to admit out loud. She cleared her throat and swallowed hard, trying and failing to appear stern. "I mean... if you keep talking to me like that and squeezing me like that, we aren't even going to make it to the dance floor. I'll drag you into the nearest empty corridor myself, rules be damned."

She bit her lip, mortified by her own lack of filter but matching his smirk with a fierce, hungry challenge of her own. "So... are we actually going to dance, or are you just going to stand here and test my limits?”

”Perhaps I wear my intentions too brazenly on my sleeve, my dear lady.” His voice was rather suave and sultry for the occasion. Maybe he had started to adopt her more playful personality for himself? Or was it just the air about her that made him act like a lovestruck fool? ”Now now, I did promise you a dance. That might require a different time and place.” He gave her a wink, and slid his hand from her back and underneath one of the hands that clutched his jacket. In one smooth movement, he guided her to his side however she saw fit.

”The music is swelling and our hearts seem to be as well, Thea.” Drake felt lighter than air, the only noise that broke through his perception being the orchestra that painstakingly played for the benefit of the nobility around them. Drake’ hand still held onto hers tenderly while he took his place in front of her, another hand reaching out to grasp her side. ”A ballroom waltz sounds like a traditional way to start the evening but if you desire other moves…Please, be my guest and show me how a Smithwood likes her dances.”

He leaned in close and offered another sensual taunt of verbal word play. ”If you still feel so strongly about showing me that dark corridor after this, then might I suggest an early evening? Or are you as bold as to suggest otherwise?” The idea was, frankly, insane to say the least. Drake felt his nerves stand on end, his bravado-tinged charm likely a hair’s width away from cracking. But he looked into those gorgeous heterochromic eyes that looked up to him with such passion and breathed a soft exhale. ”No matter which choice is made I know I’ll be spoiled just to have a few more moments by your side.”

Thea let out a shaky little breath, helpless as a kitten, as he dragged her toward the music. Her hand was swallowed up in his—tiny, sure, but safe as sin. He had the nerve to turn all smooth and roguish on her, and it was doing wicked things to her nerves. But as they took their place on the floor and his hand found her waist again, that old reckless spark flared up, dragging her back from the edge of turning into a puddle at his feet.

She leaned into his hand, her eyes flashing with an intoxicating mix of genuine adoration and pure, unadulterated mischief.

"Oh, so now you're worried about traditional waltzes, my love?" she murmured, her voice a low, smoky tease that barely carried over the swelling strings of the orchestra. She moved with him effortlessly, letting the rhythm take them, but she didn't dare break eye contact. "And here I thought you were the one trying to corrupt me tonight. As for how a Smithwood likes to dance..."

She slid in closer, close enough to make the old bats at court choke on their pearls. Her body nearly pressed to his, like they were about to start a tango instead of a waltz. She let her gaze linger on his mouth—long enough to make it obvious—then snapped her eyes back up, daring him to keep up. "We like to get exactly what we want. So keep dancing for now, m'lord, but don't think for a second I've forgotten about that corridor. In fact, if you play your cards right... you might just get to spend the entire night by my side, if that's what your heart truly desires."

The way she spoke to him was another layer of music to his ears, louder than the strings being plucked and strung behind them both. Those two words sang the loudest — “my love” — then she had the audacity to go staring at his lips and making all kinds of promises that made him weak in the knees and light in his chest.

“The only thing I’m ‘worried’ about is how long before my goading truly takes hold and I reap what I have sown. Worry being a facetious term.” He playfully retorted, following the grace of her moves with his own. The pair truly made it seem like they were moving as one. Each step, each slide, every twirl she did as he held her arm up high. The synergy between them was palpable.

“Us Edwards are a purposeful family. Every move we make is very much planned…” Moving from the end of an underarm twirl, Drake brazenly wrapped an arm around her lower back and knelt down to gradually lower her. His hand still held hers just as softly as before, but a firm grip reassured her that she was in good hands. “…and calculated.” He rose back up with her and resumed their traditional waltz as if they didn’t just make a show of themselves.

“Every word I say. Every step I take. It’s all been to spend a night by your side — so if we’re playing the hand we’re dealt, then I must have a four of a kind.” The man’s eyelids lowered as he looked down at her, the quintessence of his romantic and selfish desires. It was his turn to stare longingly at her lips — wanting to close the distance between hers and his so damned badly. Consequences be damned. If she paid close attention, she would see the slight droop in his jaw and the quiver that told her he was very much becoming undone by charm. However, he was right where he wanted to be.

The dip nearly knocked the air out of her, a sharp little gasp slipping out before the orchestra swallowed it whole. For a few wild seconds, dangling over the marble with his arm clamped tight at her back, she wasn't a Lady of Stravy, wasn't some haunted little wretch running from her own bloody shadow. She was just his, and damn if that didn't feel dangerous.

He hauled her back up into the waltz, and her heart was thumping so hard she half-expected it to punch right through her ribs and smack him in the face. She caught the shift in him straight away: jaw slackening, lips twitching, that perfect little mask of his about to crack. Gods, she wanted to see him snap. It was delicious.

A slow, wicked grin curled up her mouth, and this time she let her cheeks burn red as sin. Let him see it. She wasn't hiding a damn thing tonight.

"A four of a kind?" She murmured, voice dropping to that low, smoky purr she knew drove him mad. She leaned in, close enough that her hair brushed his shoulder, close enough to taste the tension between them. Her chin tipped up, mismatched eyes fixed on his mouth, teasing them both with how close she was. "Lucky for you, I don't bluff when the stakes are this high. But if you keep staring at my mouth like that, you're going to make a right mess of your precious Edwards calculation in front of this crowded ballroom." She knew he could feel her breath on his lips as she was that close. She wanted to see him break. She wanted to see what he'd do when she pushed him right to the edge.

There was certainly a crack in the professional face of Drake Edwards. Every poke, every stare, every honey-laced word slipping into his ear. He saw each and every one of her tricks, and while he appreciated the affirmation, he knew that her game was to get him to crumble over her. Damned was she good. Why did her eyes have to be so….beautiful. Drake failed to even find a proper word to describe the way he felt when he looked at her. He just felt so happy to be right there, having someone like her fawning so strongly for him.

That passion, that heat in his chest building with every turn of their feet. It was everything Drake wanted from a courtship to be honest. To be lost so deeply in passion that you forget the room and everything else around you both in it. For that, he cracked a warm smile at her.

”I shall keep my composure, Lady Smithwood.” He calmly said as the two spun around one another on the dance floor. ”But if you keep talking like that, and looking at me with those hungry eyes. I’m not sure even the most reasonable man in the capital would be able to stop himself from acting on his base desires.” As they reached the corner of the dance floor, the song nearing its end with a dramatic fade, Drake looked to Thea with a few slow breaths – both from their intense dance and the intense emotions running rampant between the two.

”But I think it’s high-time we were both honest with ourselves, Lady Thea. I can act the brave charming gentleman all I like but you…as you so aptly put it…make a right mess out of me. In all the right ways.” His voice was hushed, only for her ears. Both hands reached for her sides as the man slowly blinked at her. ”So are we dancing, or are we finding somewhere else to continue our evening?”

A breathless, soft chuckle escaped her lips as the last notes of the orchestra faded into the high-arched ceilings of the ballroom. Her hand slid up from his shoulder, her fingers lightly trailing along his jawline as she soaked in the raw, unscripted honesty in his voice. To hear the perfect, calculated Duke-in-training admit—so quietly, so completely—that she made a right mess of him was a victory far sweeter than any game of wits she'd ever played.

The heat pooling deep in her chest didn't lessen, but as she looked at his slow, steady breaths and the genuine warmth in his eyes, a wave of that newfound, tender sweetness completely washed over her. She didn't feel the desperate urge to run and hide in a dark corner anymore; she just wanted to stretch this perfect moment out for as long as the night would allow.

With a slow, adoring smile that brought a fresh, gentle blush to her cheeks, Thea closed the remaining inches between them as she captured his lips with hers. It wasn’t a kiss filled with desperate need, it was a kiss filled with pure love and devotion to the man in front of her.

She let her lips brush his skin as she shook her head against him, a soft, smoky laugh vibrating in her throat."The night is still far too young, and as much as I want to completely steal you away from this stuffy court... I can be patient. If we're going to retire for the evening, I want it to be somewhere entirely private, somewhere wonderfully romantic—not a rushed, dusty alcove." She murmured, her voice laced with a newfound, gentle patience as she pulled back just enough to look into his eyes.

She gave his hands a warm, reassuring squeeze, her eyes shining with absolute devotion. "Let's enjoy the party a little longer. Show me off, dance with me again, and let everyone see exactly how a mess looks on you. I'm not going anywhere."

He could see the victory in her eyes, the way she laid out a Royal Flush to beat out his Four of a Kind in this imaginary game of poker. But it was a game he didn’t mind losing. No…for her it was his own special victory to see the glimmer of joy in her eyes. Their kiss was like something from a fairy tale. His lips tenderly brushed into hers, leaning into her with grace yet still wanting more, but he knew better than to indulge such wants here.

”Indeed. There is yet much to see. But know this. When the night has reached its finish. I want nothing more than to have you and only you. I want nothing more than to give you me and only me.” He pulled her close into an embrace that told its own story. One of want, one of desire and need, and of home. That no matter where in the world he was, nowhere felt more welcoming than in her arms. ”I love you, Thea Smithwood.”

Thea’s heart skipped a beat as she stared up at him, but she looked up at him with all the affection in the world. ”And I love you, Drake Edwards. From now and until the end of time.”

He took her hands, and the two made their way back to the center of the ballroom. For just those few moments, they were the center of the universe to each other. Eyes locked on no one but each other, and hearts full of nothing but adoration and thoughts for their beloved. The music played, their movements were in sync, like two forces of nature meant to collide and become one in a dazzling show. The only sad part about the dance was the fact that it had to end, and so the two finished at the edge of the ballroom, each taking in quick breaths stolen by their love for one another.

”Until tonight, then, my love.”