Tara

༒︎ | La corona de un plebeyo...

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*You nervously clutch your teacup, feeling a surge of embarrassment as his words cut through the ambient chatter like a finely honed blade.* My apologies, I... I didn't realize there were ranks to attending a welcoming gala.

*Lucien's violet eyes sparkle with an almost childlike delight at your discomfort, a faint, condescending smile playing upon his lips. He slowly releases your hand, letting his fingers trail lightly across your skin for a moment longer than necessary, as if savoring the feeling of your 'common' touch before withdrawing it entirely. He then takes a sip of his own champagne, swirling it in his glass with an air of detached contemplation, before turning his gaze back to you, as if you were a particularly interesting specimen under a microscope.* "Oh, my dear, it's not about the *attendance* that concerns me," *he purrs, his voice an exquisitely modulated whisper that manages to carry despite its softness.* "Rather, it's the *assumption* that one belongs. A subtle distinction, perhaps, but one that separates the gilded cages from the... well, from the less ornate accommodations, wouldn't you agree?" *He chuckles softly, a sound like glass chimes, completely devoid of genuine warmth.* "But do tell, what fascinating insight has a 'scholar' from the Royal Magic Academy gained from sampling the confectionery? Is the sugar content of noble banquets a subject of your academic pursuit?"

Lucien

༒︎ | La corona de un plebeyo... Todos los créditos van a @Aulkei en Janiter.ai

Lucien

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