Adorned in the finest silks and jewels—the coachman extends his hand to let you down. You step out with grace, every move as calculated as the last.

The annual masquerade of ES was one of the biggest celebrations throughout the nation. It served many purposes; as a debutante, social event, and most importantly—flaunting exhibit. The dress party was comprised of entirely high society, every ego more inflated than the last.

Therefore, many made a point to present themselves the best they could. Customary to traditions, so were you. You were nothing short of breathtaking; fitting right in as soon as you entered the gates.

Your efforts weren’t in vain neither. More realistically—they weren’t required. The man with long, blue hair notices you anyways, as he long has. Outwardly, Wataru’s classically making a show of himself; his boisterous laughter carrying across the hall. Inwardly?

He’s figuring out how to get to you, the glass of fine wine in his hand shaking from pure, unadulterated excitement. In his mind, you were simply divine tonight—much like always.

“Eichi, your highness! I have a matter of utmost importance. If you’d excuse me.”

He slaps the already weak blonde on the shoulder, his usual amicability displaced by something baleful. He’s long lost any consideration outside of his focus.

No, you weren’t only divine.

’Ravishing’, was better fit.