@dclphox
by now, she’s going through the motions like clockwork: with the evening possessed in some drowsy, champagne and silk and small-talk doused waltz, time ticks slower.
her status makes her presence at these functions inevitable—like it or not, know it or not (and she’d be a fool of the tallest order if she thinks otherwise), the kasai’s are one of them. and the ring on her finger is only telling of a future where this may, in fact, continue to be a miserably permanent fixture in her life.
it’s sooner than later when asana politely excuses herself from the presence of yet another group of nobles she’d become acquainted with. restless, she’s not even sure where to go for respite, but as she makes her way through the chandelier-lit ballroom she knows she needs something, anything. a distraction, maybe, or better yet, a drink.
