Take My Soul | Lyna & Renfry
Lyna was a vain woman, but her arrogance was born of a certain practicality. Beauty was merely another weapon in her arsenal and she was poised to draw. Lynessa had written her of the fashions in the Capitol and Lyna had painstakingly reproduced them, with a few particular tweaks all her own. The deep blues of the dress suited her and she cocked an appreciative brow at her own reflection before turning out for the evening.
Lord Lucian Moran was hosting one of his dinners for the family and, tedious as they were, she felt certain that with a stolen appreciative glance or two - held just long enough for him to notice - at Rowlin paired with her glamor, she would have his full attention, even if Lord Moran connived to place her far away, again. The haughty man made plenty of excuses - there were so many Stafford boys and so few ladies to spread around, or it was indelicate for lovers to be too often in one another's company before marriage...but whatever the reason he put forth, Lyna liked to think her hold on Rowlin simply made the supercilious prude nervous and if there was one thing Lyna loved, it was disappointing men like Lucian Moran.
Taking the assigned seat at table, she cast her eyes upon her dining companion with a barely concealed cringe. Still, she managed a smile for Renfry Moran. "Good evening, my lord," she greeted as she sank into the seat beside him. Renfry was a mystery to her - and an uncomfortable one, at that. Lyna had begun to believe that staying this far North for too long seemed to do something to the mind. Renfry was a leading example. "How fairs Lady Moran?" she inquired, politely, quickly glancing around to see if Renfry's manservant were also about.