#roman: 01

[rhea-florent]

Closed starter for @romanprester Setting: Highgarden, the Reach. After weeks of visitors, the Verdant Concord is about to come to an end.

Rhea spotted the man and noticed that he spotted her as well the moment she walked out to the balcony. It was the last feast for the Verdant Concord, the last gathering in which Cedric honored his guests. Thankfully, they would all begin departing in the morning and throughout the rest of the day. She was content to see them all leave, particularly the Westerners. Soon, the halls and gardens of Highgarden would fall to their usual rhythm again.

The Mistress of Whispers could have ignored Lord Prester. She could have nursed her goblet of Arbor gold and just look at the night sky in silence. Something in her stirred, however. A sort of ancient resentment that lived at the core of her, a festering wound she never bothered to heal or put to rest. “Lord Prester, isn't it?” she asked casually as she turned to the man. She looked at him inquisitively, a polite smile on her slips, yet the gesture appeared cold.

“I remember you from some years ago. The Reach and the West proudly coming together for battle in the Isles”. The war that ended Ironborns. But that wasn't the only time she recalled seeing him or hearing his name, however. She recalled all too well those Western houses which staunchly supported Alaric's arrest of Rhea nearly a decade ago, as Cedric's brother folded under the pressure of the Lion King. She blamed them for what was done to her as well, she blamed them the same as she had blamed Alaric. “Do you not miss the sea, my lord? Landlocked here for the duration of the Concord? Though I imagine you must be glad to head home tomorrow”.

[jez-dragoumis]

For the first time in quite literally forever- or at least since she was old enough to and had reason to- Jezebel had no desire to step right on into Noire. As a matter-of-fact, the very notion of doing so made her so uneasy she actually felt itchy.

It wasn’t really anyone’s fault- except perhaps her own. But she honestly had no desire to step inside after her breakdown of epic proportions, the one she couldn’t really explain or understand. Her mind was going a thousand miles an hour since that whole fiasco and that alone was enough to cause anxiety. And while it was neither Tony’s fault nor had he done anything wrong- she laid the blame fully upon herself where it belonged- the idea of walking in there just then and seeing him? No thank you. She couldn’t know what to say to him if she saw him face to face just yet. Text was so much easier despite how nuts they had gone.

And yet…life persisted. And Jez still had a job to do. Which meant that, as usual, she had to go to Noire. And try to figure out a way to meet with the girl giving her information without heading into the club. So she had called the girl and asked her to meet her around outside during her break that way she could keep herself carefully and peacefully outside. And that was how she found herself planted outside next to where Roman usually planted himself while on duty, thumbs tucked into the front pockets of her jeans, teeth worrying her bottom lip so much it almost hurt. “Don’t you ever get bored out here all night, sweetheart? It might be hard when you’re out here all day with nothing much to do, ain’t it?” Okay, so she was pathetic at making small talk when she was anxious. But it was better than silence. @werewolf-roman​