Location: Otok Bay [En Route to Balcony]
Tag: Adron Malvern | Faye Malvern
Alessandra moved through the masses without a care. Otok Bay was a little more upper-class than many in the Confederacy were used to, but, at the end of the day, it was still nothing compared to Brentaal IV. She had grown up among the social elite and never shied away from wealth or the potential for power. It was in her blood. Both as a Creed and a Brentioch. Her parents were titled. It was only fitting that she attend this little gathering with something befitting both her station and the disposition of her date.
Adron Malvern was among one of the few that her unbreakable will would bend for. He had asked for a costume, something simple, and royalty had been the first thing that sprang to mind. She’d sent for a seamstress and metalworker the same afternoon and it had been settled easily enough. No matter how many bodies filled this hall, laughing, dancing and generally enjoying the merriment she would always be able to find him.
After their excursion to space unknown and a starship crash that had nearly killed them?
His presence in the Force stood out to her like a beacon.
“Red. Dry.”, she spoke to the bartender that seemed to be making drinks at a rapid-fire pace. The glass of wine that had been placed in her hand was among the food that had been tainted by the [TRICK] portion of the evening. She didn’t drink too often but in situations like this? She saw nothing wrong with making the evening more bearable. She sampled it as she made obligatory rounds. Speaking to other Ministers, Viceroyals, and thanking their hosts for the gracious gathering.
Once her required duties were complete she moved to find the Serenno man that had somehow managed to endear himself to her. Crimson lips were set in a partially wicked smile, imagining him in armor, swathed in red, and every bit the King she required. Leisurely footsteps made steady clicks on the floor as her dangerously high heels led toward the balcony. She was clad in wholly in onyx, the Black Queen, to Adron’s Red King. Svelte, gorgeous, and tempting. What should have resulted in a light teasing and activities that smudged her carefully applied makeup was not to be.
No, instead, she watched while Adron Malvern not only embraced another woman—but kissed the top of her head.
She couldn’t hear the words being spoken. Alessandra, did not care. Her anger came sudden, born of betrayal, and lashed out like a whip that the amethyst jewel around her neck could not hope to contain. The drugs that had tainted her wine amplified normal responses to the point of leading it directly to fury. The crash of glass hitting the floor would alert the secretive couple, but, more than anything the sight of a steadily growing fireball in her hand should cause reason for alarm.
Chestnut eyes, flecked with cinnamon, remained dark. So dark that the color could not be seen. It wouldn’t be until closer inspection that anyone would know that her pupils were blown. The color had been eaten away by darkness. “You…”, Alessandra breathed, gaze fixated on the harlot-woman, while flame leapt around slender digits. “Should be running.”
Adron. She hoped he held his ground. Tried to explain. She could feel something between them. A fondness, a connection, and it caused her endlessly beautiful features to take on the guise of something new. Jealousy was not an unfamiliar emotion to her.
This was just the first time, perhaps the last time, that Adron would have the pleasure of it.
“I warned you.”
Don’t betray me. Don’t lie to me. Don’t deceive me. The fireball left her hand without warning and launched itself at the Exarch of the Confederacy. Treason, definitely, but worth it.