♙ - okay but u know kicho and nagu Talk Shit at warlord gatherings
♙ - my muse watches yours’ with their fiancee/partner/spouse and feels a ton of regret
“There he is. Get a good look, I want you to remember that face.”
Following Hisahide’s glare, Ruolan finally settled on a man across the room - distinguished, with dark hair and an elegant bearing that set him apart from the other warlords. Her lord’s scowl deepened, lips pulling back from his teeth.
“It’s infuriating. So smug, thinking he’s so much better than everyone else - and his wife’s no better.”
His wife. Her chest tightened as she caught a glimpse of the woman beside Nobunaga, carrying herself with such an unearthly grace that her feet seemed to hardly touch the floor. Ruolan had heard of Spectra’s leader, but nobody had mentioned how breathtaking she was; black curls pinned up from the curve of her lily-white neck, the softness of her full lips a stark contrast to her piercing eyes.
Most of the women attending with their spouses at least made a sporting performance of being happy to be there, but Nobunaga’s wife gave away nothing. He seemed less her husband and more a faceless shadow at her side, melting into insignificance. What did he matter next to her? She looked self-possessed, crossing a floor separate from their own noisy world.
“Yeah,” Ruolan finally managed, her mouth suddenly feeling full of sand. “She’s…really something else.” Hisahide shot her a sideways glance, his disgust fading into a sly look.
“Ah, are we jealous? Don’t look so sad, pet; she might be a beauty, but you’re not without your own merits. Lady Nouhime thinks she’s a cut above the rest of us, just like her husband.”
Not answering, Ruolan watched the woman’s retreating back. Hisahide wasn’t entirely off the mark - she did feel a stab of envy, watching the couple pass by. For Nobunaga, who was lucky enough to be by her side.
“It’s nothing to worry about, my lord. Nothing important.”