"With every glance she steals, my heart tightens, bound by the thrill of belonging to her, where power and love intertwine forever."
• Medea Solon x Roxana Agriche
➳ 𝐈𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐭, 𝐰𝐡�...
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"The fresh air and the scenery are truly delightful, wouldn't you agree?"
--ꨄ--
"Remember, Medea, we are only here to face the Agriches. We are not here to have fun."
Thesion instructed sternly. Medea sat across from him, with Dekis beside her, looking visibly bothered.
"But Father... she is only ten. She couldn't have possibly just straight up made allies," Dekis commented, his brows furrowing at the absurdity of the idea.
Their father frowned deeply and shot him a glare that could silence a room. Dekis fell silent immediately, shrinking back in his seat with a bitter look in defeat.
"I think you forgot the rule, Dekis. We Solons should never have fun unless power is in our hands," Thesion reminded, his voice cold and unwavering. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, the gravity of his words lingering in the air.
Medea's gaze drifted to the window, her eyes doe with a hint of innocent curiosity. She pondered what might lie beyond that gathering, intrigued by the notion of what could possibly be more engaging outside.
Soon enough, they arrived at the place where the diplomatic relationship banquet was being held. The atmosphere was an odd mix of gloom and brightness, creating an eerie yet captivating scene.
Medea wore an innocent expression, unaware of what awaited them inside. She glanced up at her brother, who held her hand with a stoic and composed look.
"Deki, father said that this is important. But why?" She couldn't help but ask, her curiosity piqued. He looked down at her with a soft smile, trying to reassure his sister but Medea could tell that he was also nervous inside.
"It's nothing to worry about," he said gently. "It's between Father and the Agriche head."
She squinted her eyes, an instinctive wariness surfacing as she sensed the lies in his words. Thesion Solon stood poised before them, always the first to enter with an air of practiced assurance. His head was held high, his demeanor exuding confidence, while a smug smile lingered on his lips.
Dekis, in contrast, retained his composed and serene expression, his smile effortlessly enchanting those around him, even as Medea maintained her neutral stance.
'I wonder why father despises the Agriches...'
Her gaze was immediately drawn to the resplendent banquet hall, an opulent expanse filled with nobles engrossed in conversations.
'Oh.'
The banquet hall was a vision of opulence, draped in silken tapestries that shimmered under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. Tall, arched windows allowed the moonlight to filter through, casting an ethereal glow across the marble floors.
