Death can easily be administered to anyone regardless of how successful they were in life.
A god agrees with the nihilist in this story.
There are many tragedies in this story. Many fortunes arising, too.
But the god and the antichrist don't car...
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Mother Knows Best
Varbridge Palace, Ember's Rock, Saprea
Sandro fed off the interest of others, until he was needed by more important people.
He understood what was expected of him. Cassius opened the door, acting as if he wasn't scared stiff by the imagines of ghosts. Alessandro sensed that there was more to the situation than his brother cared to address, but it was never like him to press Cassius with unwanted questions.
Together, they walked into the ballroom. Sandro moved to the side, allowing Cassius to walk beside him in even strides. He meant to cross the hall to exit the doorway that led to the other side of the palace, but realized that Cassius was following him. Sandro held his arm in front of Cassius, pivoted, and forced Cassius to keep him in his line of vision.
"Why are you following me when you have a woman to make amends with?"
If all went well, which it hadn't, Cassius would've slipped unobtrusively into the ballroom, given his regards to Princess Desyrae, and left. It was a clever plan that Sandro could see through.
He was only attending this particular ball out of loyalty to Desyrae, who, despite her hatred for him, had power over him since it was expected of the couple to be seen with each other in public.
The comedic tragedy that would've come out of Cassius's mouth was withheld as Loran's familiar voice hollered at Cassius. Loran was waving, beckoning Cassius to come. "Can it be true, Cassius? Is that really you?"
For a moment, Sandro connected his eyes with Loran's. Even if the dynamic between the two had remained undefined since the night on the parapet, he walked with Cassius towards him because he was eager to meet the princess. He understood that he had to approach her properly. He bucked up and prepared to tackle the formalities of society.
He recalled with a smile, while taking long strides towards the small group, how he and Loran became friends. It was accidental. They sipped into each other like a river to the sea; meaning Loran became an extension of Sandro. Fondly, he thought of his friend.
Loran began to tense, flushing red on his cheeks when he approached, but Sandro overlooked his sheepish smile and patted him on the shoulder. It was difficult to formulate any kind of lighthearted remark between them.
Lady Rowena's eyes lit up in the middle of her discussion. "You are Sandro, aren't you?"
Sandro nodded and proudly flashed the girl his shining teeth. "I presume you are Rowena."
Rowena's eyes were trained on Sandro in childlike wonder. "Yes, yes. My brother has mentioned you tons of times in his letters. He admires you a lot. I'm so excited to meet you!"
Loran snorted, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. "Just ignore her. She likes to exaggerate. She can speak to you another time."
"Gladly. I'd love to hear more about how much admiration you have for me," Alessandro said absently, "but there's enough talk about me in this court and I have yet to be properly introduced to Her Highness."
