The (phantoms) in our hands;
@demonofmontecristo
All around her was covered in red, but not in blood for once -- but the elegance of curtains and red dresses.
'Would red suit me, I wonder? Or would I be too flashy?’
Notes from a string melody played in the air, ever so gentle and welcoming, much like the beginning of a party. Selvaria was no alien to such events, especially as the general to a Prince.
The lavish lives that royalties lived was often underplayed, in her opinion.
“Often I’ll be on-duty for Him, but it’s strange that tonight I am tasked to be an attendant...”
Taking slow steps, she had realised that she was not walking in her usual boots, but a beautiful pair of slippers.
Although she personally chooses to wear slightly impractical items of clothing at war, she often wanted to remain stylish, so that He would see her... Perhaps even give her a chance to feel his fingers on her...
She walked towards the nearest table with desserts and high-tea snacks, noting her reflection -- with her hair done up and a flower to her right, she even wore a dress that was meant to seduce.
... After all, it was His orders.
But most of the men she has walked past ogled her. In her attempts to ignore them, to recall the intentions of her being there at the ballroom -- she sought for something else to look at that wasn’t... any of the men.
Moving her gaze past her reflection, she noticed that the moon was a bright white, in a sea of darkness.
“When has it ever been this bright... Or perhaps I haven’t given myself the chance to look in so long.”
