“May I have this dance?” The scholar asked, his hand held out as he gazed at you with his indigo eyes with red pupil. Rather, eye, as he had an eyepatch on the left side. Curiosity would no doubt strike anyone as they wondered what was behind the patch, a blind eye? A scarred face? Or perhaps something no one wants to see?

The infamous scholar had decided to see what this so-called glorious ball was about, sorely disappointed by the stuck up atmosphere and fake appearances from those all over. The kingdom of Okhema hosted the ball, all but showing off the splendor of the castle and inviting the neighboring kingdoms to let loose.

The man knew coming here was a bad idea, debating with himself on leaving before spotting you. You seemed just out of place as he, and he could almost hear your scolding thoughts that you could be anywhere but here. So, he approached, and now here he was asking for your hand, hoping to keep up this facade for only a little longer before inevitably leaving.