#fleurfr

If Alfred's charm could be quantified in some way, it would have to be equivalent to that of a small dog. You may want to pet them, surely, but you do not want to dance with the dog. The dog has no rizz, and therefore cannot entice you to engage in merriment.

This did not dissuade Alfred whatsoever. He was determined to dance with a large quantity of people, and perhaps—in doing so—acquire more charms for the bracelet that was hidden beneath royal blue sleeves.

Dorothea had caught his attention the moment he saw her—her dress elegant, her hair perfectly done. She looked like a pretty flower. He simply had to dance with her, out of sheer admiration.

When he approaches he does so with the gait of someone who is warm and friendly. "Hi there! I don't think we've met before. I'm Prince Alfred of Firene, pleased to meet you!" He offers a hand. "I was wondering if you might like to dance with me?"

𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 2025

his approach is not one commonly seen tonight — though that, in part, is what makes it so refreshing. particularly here and now, where things skew more formal among the adrestians and their penchant for protocol and pomposity. less ceremonial and more amicable, and with the introduction of himself as prince alfred of firene, her lips curl at the realization that he might not yet know of her own moniker or the lack of titles — at least the ones that mattered in adrestia — rendering her free to introduce herself solely as,

"dorothea. what a shame it's taken this long to meet."  

words edging on eagerness as she takes the proffered hand, smiling sweetly.  

"i'd love nothing more. but first, can i offer you something? you'll need a charm to remember me by once our dance is over."  

beaming, she deftly unhooks one of the small pearl charms from her bracelet and, with a spirited curtsey, offers it to him.  

It seemed others had the same idea, curled up as they were on various pieces of furniture throughout the estate, slumbering about or merely chatting with one another in the face of unusual circumstances. 

Logically, the next step was to… get cozy? But how might he do that without a blanket? He could always kindly ask to sit next to someone, siphon their warmth… but wasn’t that indecent? What would Céline say if she found out about him cozying himself up to other guests?

Oh well! He was cold. That was enough for him. He approaches another gentleman nearby as not to make this too awkward of an affair—cozying himself up with a male guest wouldn’t turn as much heads or paint him in a negative light, he thinks to himself—and clears his throat. “Is, uh… this seat taken? I got caught in the rain a while back and am just looking for a place to cozy up, as it were. Oh! I’m Alfred, by the way. What’s your name?”

It's gotten late, and at least parts of the mansion have started to settle down. Some rooms are still rowdy, and Stahl has considered joining in on some of it, but he feels a bit exhausted after the day of dancing, drinking, fishing (he won't get over that, at least not tonight). So he settles onto a couch and tugs a nearby blanket over himself. His jacket has been slung over a hook on the wall, and he's removed his shirt if for no other reason than it's cold, so the blanket helps to lock in what heat he can get.

His eyes are closed and arms crossed loosely over his chest beneath the blanket when he hears someone speaking to him. He opens his eyes again and sees a blonde man standing nearby. He looks cold, which is to be expected after the downpour they all just got caught in, so Stahl flips part of the blanket up, indicating that the seat next to him is definitely not taken.

"Hey, no worries! We all god wet and cold out there, didn't we?" He pats the spot beside him. "My name's Stahl. If you'd like, I can also try to get the hearth going. That'd help a lot, huh." He'd considered it before, but when it was just himself, he didn't care as much to think about it. But being joined by someone else who's smaller than himself, he starts finding other ways to try and help faster.

Alfred decided to take a moment's respite in the cabana, perusing the lounge chairs and refreshments. Though normally the active sort, he understood well the body's necessity of rest—especially when surrounded by so much noise. If he could, he would drop down and get a good stretch in, but his attire restricted his movement to what was absolutely necessary—polite dancing and the like. Which, while fun, didn't exactly give his muscles the ache he usually sought.

In the midst of grabbing a glass of champagne, he notices a familiar face nearby. Though he wasn't exactly privy to the details of who he was or where he came from, there was a sense of camaraderie between the two.

He approaches with a glass in hand and a bright smile written plainly across his features. This might not have been a dance, or a workout for that matter, but mingling was always welcome.

He just hoped it was welcome from the other party.

"Hey there, friend! You taking a break from the festivities?" There's that warm, dorky charm that was ever present in his words.

ethereal ball 2025

Friend? The unseen boulder to waylay a dragon's path, the rarity and simultaneous overextension of this label halted two feet in the midst of their sandy tracks. Surprising, but with little room for theories. Few were the number that referred to the Fell Heir in any light of amicability. Even rarer the count to speak in that much too sunny tone, eccentric in its own right and seemingly irreverent of rain or hail or undeserving atoner. That in mind, the Divine One was one of two foolish creatures who promptly came to mind. As for the other? Rafal cast a curt glance in that young man's direction with an expansion to wholesale staring.

"Alfred." Between the bleeding note of surprise and the slight release of a habitual frown, recognition dawned with a series of observations to follow. The Prince of Firene was here of all places; he was as smartly dressed as any who navigated the festivities at hand; last but not least, he was approaching Rafal. "You may 'friend' yourself. When did you arrive? All but a friendly ghost, you have appeared suddenly in this land and would show yourself to me with a smile!"

Admittedly, there had been a few of that type as of late, sans the smile in Nel and Mauvier's case. But a beat of reflection passed him next to silence - an amendment as he crossed his arms on a self-ruled faux pas.

". . .Not that I am obligated to know of your business."

He spots a familiar figure nearby. He remembers this one — who had once erroneously addressed him as king. Flattering, albeit a little intimidating. He was far from ready to live up to such lofty expectations. He saw no harm in approaching. After all, a friend to be made was still a friend.

"Fancy seeing you here."  He offers a warm, genuine smile, before gesturing to the display before them. "We have a tradition like this back home, you know. Kind of hard not to when the lanterns are shaped like flowers." He could only imagine what the lanterns would look like once lit and completed, covered in the wishes of those attending.

"I know. We should make a wish together! It could be fun."