Rainbow Rose(s) ~ Neuv x Wrio x Reader (TEMP HIATUS)

Guardian Angel in a Tailor Made Suit

The leaves of the trees sway gently in the cool breeze, the blossoms adorning the branches fall to the ground rather majestically. The grass follows the direction of the wind, and dances in a mesmerizing way. The gardens, recently so empty during the harsh cold of winter, now bloom with life. Flowers grow, and spread their beautiful petals open for the world to see. This lovely change of the weather goes not unnoticed by Fontainians. For it is a signal that time has come; the Spring Ball is upon us once more.

~

It is customary in Fontaine for high standing members of society to attend balls such as this one, for these balls are an important gathering place for the wealthy, and only the wealthy. This particular ball, the Spring Ball, is an annual ball hosted around, of course, spring time. Right when the flowers are at their most colourful, when the weather is at its finest.

Invitations to this gathering are not hard to come by, as long as you are worth your salt. As long as you are part of a family that stands amongst the higher ranks in Fontaine's society, you'll be invited, no matter the other details.

However, if you make a fool of yourself once, at any ball in Fontaine, regardless of which ball, you can bid any future invitations farewell. There is no recovering. But that has never happened before, as least not when it came to the women. For you see, the balls were hosted for a reason.

At these balls, the wealthy mingle with the wealthy, in the hopes of getting, well, wealthier. Women put on their finest, fakest facades to marry their way into rich families, whereas men put on their most charming smiles to snag themselves a beautiful wife, ready to produce said man an heir.

But men often make fools of themselves, and lose their temper at a woman only to be escorted outside and far away by the Gardes. This happens because the women are not interested in just any men, for there are two very special guests who attend each ball. And the women, every single one of them, have set their sights on one of those.

Anf that is why, the closer we get to this fine day, the women run about, making all sorts of purchases and having adjustments done to their costumes to hopefully catch the eye of these two fine gentlemen.

And then the day comes.

"It is time!" Shrieks an aged women to her sons and daughters, still getting dressed.

"It is time!" Squeal the voices of two sisters, grasping each other's hands and smiling.

"It is time!" Chime the voices of young bachelor's, hoping to score a chance with the beautiful women that this night has to offer.

"It is time." I whisper to my reflection as I look at myself in the mirror once more. With one last glance at my own eyes, I grab my top hat and go. I do hope it was worth wearing my finest suit tonight.

~

The queue is remarkable. Though many have arrived early, they have not arrived early enough, for it will still take a long time to reach the lovely gates.

Oh how it must suck to stand in queue, I think as I stroll past all the people, going unnoticed by them all. Why am I going past them, you ask? Isn't that queue how you get in to the ball? No. Well, to most, yes, but not to me. See, I have been to every ball ever hosted in the Nation of Justice, and I have been given the title of a regular. I have special privileges, see. How do they work? Simple.

I skip the ginormous queue and head towards a side entrance, where a butler awaits my arrival. I hand the servant my invitation, and without so much as a glance at it, he lets me in. All the staff members know me by now, I could get in without an invitation at all if I wanted to.

The entrance I have been granted permission to use leads towards the garden. It is a magnificent sight, especially at this time of year. I cherish every minute of the walk. The Rainbow Roses' scent is intoxicatingly sweet, the Lumidouce Bells' colour catches my eye and does not let me look away. The rest of the flowers, both Fontaine native plants, and those imported from elsewhere, all seem to smile up at me. It seems the flowers know me too! How sweet.