#..{{a better me}}..

The hustle of parties had always been overwhelming. No matter how much he dreamed of hosting grand events and being the center of attention, even something like this where he practically became one with the ivy laced wall he could barely handle. Even the odd glance from the attendees was enough to have him sink further. Wether it was to avoid conversation, or hide away from their judgement, he couldn’t tell, but it was as it had been for the last twenty years. 

As his attention was drawn to the grass at his feet, he could feel a warm tug at his hands prying him from safety. It was Hoku - the sorceress he had been spending his time with as of late. Always trying to step in and enjoy anything Roland tossed her way. It seemed this was no exception. Yet, he had told her that he detested these sorts of events. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, yet… here he was.

This whole spring ball affair was an utter waste of his time, and as the hours passed he couldn’t help but ponder why he had said yes to helping her prepare. Crossing one knee over the other, Cedric would continue to nod fake approvals while sincerely giving a thumbs down to the dresses that truly didn’t look amazing. How long was this supposed to take anyways? She had already gone through so many that looked perfectly fine... Without any warning he was suddenly assaulted by a pile of dresses being tossed atop him. A command was barked. What was he? A servant? With a huff, he’d obey however, and begin to haul the pile back towards the front of the store — the actual workers could put these blasted things away. 

It was during his return back to his seat that he noticed something glint in the corner of his eye. Admittedly, he did have an eye for robes and spent many long hours lavishing in the thoughts of ornate regalia, but he never fully indulged. Still, he couldn’t help but take note of particular fashion when it did catch his attention. And the black feathered robe that had been hiding from him the whole afternoon? Well, how could it not? It was encrusted in shimmering black diamonds. It was just as over the top as everything that Cordelia had been going through.

What sort of poppycock had Roland been feeding the newly acquainted royals? Because whatever it was, it was most likely about to blow up in his face. While he truly appreciated the King’s sentiments - he would rather some form of praise over prior descriptions he had heard in person - he was still him. Sofia’s positivity was to be understood, but the king had no excuse to play the fool. That was his role over the years, even if it wasn’t to be announced, and people had a tad more faith in him than usual.

...but if the Queen had yet to see another’s magic, perhaps the cards were in his favor for once.

"Well, I do hope I’m not a disappointment, Your Majesty. I take it you’ll be attending the show tonight? I’ve planned an amazing assortment of spells that’s intended to astound.”

This is the face of a man that does not know consequence.

Scouring over the array of open drawers and decluttered shelves, the sorcerer would pace. Intently at first, but soon the speed and shuffle would scream impatience. Not to mention, that irritable eye-twitch he had so become known for as he had become more sociable.  The issue? Cordelia had ransacked his supplies. There was still plenty to work with, but he was no amateur. The royal sorcerer needed to be on top of his duties, and how was he supposed to impress if he couldn’t pull off any sort of niche? Parlor tricks didn’t go very far in these lands outside impressing children, and he was hoping that this would be the year he’d finally escape that unwanted gig. The how was still coming to him, but for now he couldn’t experiment. This needed to be fixed. Immediately. 

There was not a single ounce of care anywhere in his being. Yet, despite her full knowledge of his disdain for these things, he had been dragged out once again to play a judge without a voice. It didn’t matter what he said - her opinion was all that mattered - yet, if he stayed quiet, she would whine and complain. It was almost a ritual at this point, but he didn’t know for what spell. To null his sanity? Who knew?

Leaning back in his seat as he only took a mere glance over the array of pink silken fabrics, he would shrug, “It’s alright.”

The same answer he had been giving for the whole afternoon whether the gowns actually looked good or not.

It was an odd feeling to be entirely aware of how uneasy one was, but Cedric knew that he was pacing in front of his closet. The twitching of his fingers against themselves? Also something that kept him grounded. And the noise that escaped from the back of his throat? Well, he wasn’t entirely aware of that, but the moment his whining because a tad too loud it’d cease, and them slowly resume as his thoughts raced faster than his heart. It had been quite some time since Roland had put him on the spot; it seemed the King was content to let him do his work from the shadows, but this was a tad too much for his tastes... even if no work was to be involved In fact, this was a sort of vacation. Yet, it wasn’t something he wanted.

But she would. She’d love this.

And that was a particular reason he couldn’t botch the occasion. One of many, but he couldn’t be an embarrassment for more than just Roland now. It wasn’t his honor on the line.

Waiting impatiently for the enchantress to arrive back, he would continue his turmoil between the rooms of his living space. Patience was all he could have right now, the news still needed to be passed along - and perhaps she had heard of the invitation already - but he wanted the wait to end. Get it over with. Quickly. Perhaps she had better ideas on how to manage than he. She sometimes did.