They Who Really Control Fiore

A Dance

Doranbolt watches from the far wall as Lahar enters with Peridot, their arms linked. Her hair is down loose wavy curls and her dress, a dark turquoise with golden embroidered white roses adorning the left side. The sleeves were off-shouldered and made with a light turquoise sheer mesh. Peridot curtsies to the people of important standing, earning compliments that somehow brought a flush to her face.

An older woman, a wife to a former Rune Knight Commander, spoke in a delightful voice next to wizard council worker.

"Look, look Bert. Lahar over there has a beautiful bride to be! Introduce us!"

"Of course dear."

Obviously the older gentleman was the inferior in their marriage, he still led her over like a loyal dog would. The former commander truly cherished his wife and do anything she asked of him.

Unbeknownst, the woman's words cut through his heart faster than a sword could. Doranbolt had heard those words many times tonight. Not from the couple themselves, but from everyone else attending the festive event.

Watching the interaction, the memory mage could almost laugh at how terrified Lahar is of the old bag. Yet due to his broken heart, he found it difficult to even let out a tired chuckle.

When the induction ceremony began, Peridot found herself seated at a high table, but clear as day, Doranbolt saw her full attention focused on the Rune Knight as he spoke. He didn't hear a single word being spoken, didn't see the flushed look on Lahar's face from noticing Peridot's gaze on the captain. For Doranbolt became deaf and blind to the rest of the world.