Michael shook his head slowly.
"It is nothing," he said, the smile lingering.
"You are an, Sir Mic."
Michael did not argue.
Instead, he gently set the plate down, lifted his gaze to hers, and spoke in his usual calm tone.
"Would you like to join for a drink, Lady Seria?"
"I would be honored to," Seria said, her voice dropping into a formal, elegant tone. "It would be improper of to refuse."
Michael nodded and gestured toward a standing server to bring so drinks.
The server approached with practiced elegance, bowing slightly as he presented two crystal glasses filled with a light golden wine.
Michael accepted one glass and passed the other to Seria, who took it with both hands.
"Thank you," she said, giving the server a polite nod before he stepped away.
Michael lifted his glass lightly.
Seria mirrored him, her eyes bright.
"So," she began.
"So," Michael said at the sa ti.
Both paused.
Seria laughed softly. "You go first."
Michael inclined his head. "I was only going to ask how you have been since we last t."
Seria's smile softened at the sincerity in his tone. "Much better than before. And I wanted to tell you"
She stopped mid-sentence.
Michael blinked.
Seria's gaze was no longer on him.
It was locked past his shoulder.
Before Michael could turn, he already sensed it.
That familiar presence.
Arianne.
Michael slowly shifted his head to the side.
Arianne Evermoon stood there.
Her hair glimred under the hall's warm lights.
Her eyes, however, were fixed firmly on Seria Golden.
Seria seed to realize how this looked. She straightened quickly, lowering her glass and offering a polite little bow.
"Princess Evermoon," she said, her voice suddenly formal. "Good evening."
Arianne returned the gesture with perfect noble grace, though her expression held a subtle firmness.
"Lady Seria," she said gently. "Good evening to you as well."
Then Arianne's gaze shifted to Michael.
"Sir Mic."
Her tone was soft, yet the little smile she wore did not hide the hint of sharpness in her eyes. "I hope you were not too bored while I was gone."
Michael shook his head lightly. "Not at all."
Arianne's eyes dropped briefly to the two glasses of wine.
Then to Seria.
Then back to Michael.
"I see you found company!"
Seria flinched just a little and opened her mouth quickly.
"Oh, no, Princess, it was not that. I an, Sir Mic only invited for a drink because we had not seen each other in a long ti. Nothing
improper."
Michael raised an eyebrow at her sudden panic.
Arianne's lips curved.
"I did not say anything was improper," she replied calmly.
Seria froze.
Michael noticed the tension beginning to wrap around the three of them like an invisible rope.
He took a small sip of his wine, then looked at Arianne with a calm expression.
"I was catching up with Lady Seria," he said simply. "You ca at the right ti."
Arianne's shoulders relaxed slightly.
Seria let out a breath she clearly did not know she had been holding.
Michael continued.
"Shall I get you a glass as well?"
Arianne glanced at the wine between his fingers, then at Seria holding
hers.
Her smile softened a little.
"I would like that," she said.
Michael gestured to the server again.
As the server hurried over, Seria shifted awkwardly, then cleared her
throat quietly.
"Princess, Sir Mic, should I give you two so space?" she asked.
Arianne turned to her with surprising poise.
"That will not be necessary," she replied. "We are simply enjoying a
drink."
Seria nodded, though the way she held her glass just a bit too tightly made it clear she was not sure if that was a good thing or not.
Michael, anwhile, looked between the two won, one embarrassed and flustered, the other composed but sharp.
And he wondered:
Why does this suddenly feel more dangerous than Hell?
Fortunately, the food here tasted great.
Arianne accepted the new glass the server handed her.
Seria lifted hers a little higher in silent acknowledgnt. Michael simply sipped his, utterly calm.
Then
Nothing. No one spoke.
Not a word.
They simply stood there.
Arianne silently observed the hall, her eyes occasionally drifting
toward Seria.
Seria pretended to be fascinated by the chandelier for a full ten
seconds.
Michael felt peaceful.
Another ten seconds passed.
Then fifteen.
Then twenty.
Seria's expression slowly twisted into sothing between panic and
pleading, as if silently screaming:
Say sothing, anyone, please.
Arianne was no better. Her fingers tightened on the stem of her glass,
her composed smile wobbling just a little.
Michael watched people walk by, the flicker of lantern light reflecting
off polished marble, and thought:
Much better. So quiet.
Seria wanted to sink into the floor.
I really should not have listened to them.
She kept her eyes fixed on the chandelier, pretending to appreciate
the way the crystals caught the light, but her thoughts were nowhere
near the ceiling.
If there was one person who had spoken to Mic Nor on genuinely
friendly terms before he beca famous in the kingdom, it was Seria.
Not the social climbers who had only learned his na after the
tournant.
Mage Lian did not count. The relationship between him and Michael was purely made of purpose and benefit. Mutual interest.
Transactions.
But she had simply talked to him and ended up enjoying an interesting conversation like old friends, even if it was their first ti seeing each other.
Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass.
And now look at . Standing here like a complete fool between him
and the princess.
It had started a few days after the news about the legendary ruin
spread. Rumors of what had happened, and of Sir Mic who seed to have been thrown into the mix.
How even the royal family seed to value him.
Her father had called her into his study.
Her eldest brother had been there too.
They had spoken gently, but the intent beneath every word was clear.
"Seria, you were acquainted with Sir Mic before the rest of the kingdom noticed him. This is a rare opportunity. His future looks very bright. It would be foolish not to at least try to deepen that connection."
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