A Dragoneer's Silver Lining

Chapter Thirty Three

Luina anxiously gripped Alaron’s hand under the ivory table as they waited in an immaculate conference room. On one side of the wall, there was nothing more but a huge glass--a paneless window that allowed sunlight to warm them in the chilly room. The rest were empty walls as plain as the room.

A long table occupied most of the room's rectangular size as it held twelve unoccupied, velvet, beige seats. Because Phoen was a Kingdom that remained simplistic, and was devoid of any decoration, everything about this kingdom was deemed elegant by the other Kingdoms.

Dressed in a traditional straight Phoenician gown that reached past her ankles with tight long sleeves that belled out past the hands, Luina sat stiffly with her back straight. Her hair was kept in a simple bun to reveal a silver-colored collar that hugged her neck right below her jaw. She never thought she would miss wearing her loose clothing and pants and the constant bickering between Scott and Drostan that became music to her ears. Her gut clenched in guilt before she scraped her mind clean.

“Alaron,” began Luina, “do we have a pastry store in town?”

“Pastry store?” Alaron repeated as if the word itself was foreign to him. She wouldn’t blame him considering that she was never one to crave at all. It was better to say things at random to anchor herself to where she was and who she was with. Maybe in this manner, she can slowly forget about Drostan.

Stealing a quick glance from under her lashes, she could not help but admire at how smart Alaron looked. Garbed in men’s traditional wear, it was generally similar to her except from the waist down. His dress shirt stopped halfway down his thigh where he wore silver colored pants that were tucked in his black leather boots.

“Yes,” Luina answered, “a sweet bakery store,”

He slowly drew in a deep breath like he always did when he was in deep thought before staring intently at the table as if everything he needed to know was there. 

“You don’t normally enjoy sweets, Luina,” came a deep baritone voice that followed after the huge double doors swung open. Standing by the doorway were two pairs of identical men and women. The four of them wore the same attires. Stiff high-collars that seemed to cage in their heads like braces as if they were meant to never turn their heads. Unlike Luina and Drostan’s sleeves, they were loose along their arms. Their plain white gowns were straight and shapeless like Luina’s as it touched the floor, concealing their feet. The only difference was that the men were bald and the women had their faces covered by thin veils that wrapped around their hair.

They were Oracles. 

Neither one addressed Luina. Instead, it was the tall young man standing in the middle of the four. He was handsome by Phoenician standard with his long angular nose, keen, sleek vibrant blue eyes, dark short hair neatly kept in a fashion where the front slightly beaked upwards like a duck’s bill and a height that nearly matched Scott’s. He wore the same ivory robes as his companions, but unlike them, the shoulders of his sleeves were divaricated and exaggerated to support his high collar that flared out like a peacock’s tail. 

It was no big secret that Phoen was entitled as the feminine counterpart of Skullard, where the people there were big, bulky and sharp, people from Phoen were lanky, toned and had softer contours. Because both Kingdoms were introverts by nature, Luina mildly realized it was probably the reason why it was easier to be around Galvus compared to the others. 

Alas, she had yet to gather her wits. Releasing Alaron’s hand, she rose to her feet with him and wordlessly curtsied, keeping her eyes downcast. With a raise of the man’s hand, his sleeves fell up to his elbows, revealing silver tights that hugged his forearm. Wordlessly the Oracles turned their backs and closed the door on their way out.