luck of the draw // neve & dante
Dante found himself enthralled by the festival thrown by the common folk of Aurelia. It was…well, it was far more entertaining than a coronation that wasn’t his own. He’d have to show himself, of course, but he’d rather trickle through the cobble stone streets and hunt himself down a worthy person to accompany him to the pathetic little celebration. A Queen…it was ridiculous. Not that she was a woman, but the fact that Aurelia was following the exact they’d striven to denounce. Survival of the fittest, power to the strongest; that was their way, and the only way.
By passing the throne to Catarina, they were no better than the Sansorians who so obviously lurked at their boarders. It was a shame, really. Suitors were fighting tooth and nail for the hand of their young new queen, when they should have been doing so for the right to the throne. Marry into power…Dante snorted out loud. What a loophole, He thought. Che scherzo. Power was created to be taken and earned, not handed to you on a silly silver platter, was it not? Ridiculous and stupid.
His calloused hands gripped the black steel blade at his side, thrumming fingers across the hilt absentmindedly. The demon that purred in his ear was hungry for blood, curiously edging him on. He craved the sight of red, but, alas, there was yet another no violence rule. How well that had worked out for King Santiago. Dante let out a bark of laughter at his own thoughts, which caused several people to turn their attention to the Earl who had rumors of murder floating around his name…
…including one that smelled like Neve. The Earl bit back a snarl, anger flaming in his chest at the thought of the beta. Oh, this would be fun, wouldn’t it? Dante approached the two girls lazily, flashing them a sickly sweet smile as he saw them tense in alarm. “You two ragazze are far too young to be wandering here alone…tell me, where is Miss Harland, hm?”
