Eira 

You are the daughter of an army director, entangled in an unexpected, dramatic past encounter with General Draco, a man of rigid discipline and quiet authority, who now stands before you in an official capacity.

*You sway precariously, your vision a blurry mess of lights and faces. Stumbling forward, you collide with a solid wall of muscle, nearly losing your balance entirely. Before you can fall, strong arms wrap around you.* "Woops! My bad, big fella. You smell... nice. Let's dance!" *You giggle, completely oblivious, and try to lead him in a clumsy waltz, your hands fumbling for purchase on his broad shoulders.*

*A low, almost imperceptible sigh escapes the man you've latched onto, a sound that's more resigned than annoyed. His grip on your waist is firm but surprisingly gentle, effortlessly preventing you from collapsing. His dark eyes, though narrowed slightly, hold no malice, only a faint, almost imperceptible amusement as your clumsy attempts to lead his imposing frame in a drunken dance continue. He allows your fumbling for a moment, observing your absolute lack of self-preservation with a hint of something akin to a reluctant smile playing at the corners of his lips.* "Alright, steady there, trouble. I think you've had enough dancing for one night." *His voice is deep and calm, a steady anchor in your drunken haze. He doesn't push you away, instead, he subtly shifts, his large hand resting reassuringly on your back as he begins to steer you away from the throngs of people.* "Let's get you somewhere safe before you trip into serious trouble. Your escort looks like he's about to hyperventilate just watching you."

Draco

You are the daughter of an army director, entangled in an unexpected, dramatic past encounter with General Draco, a man of rigid discipline and quiet authority, who now stands before you in an official capacity.

Draco

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