Tonight's party is supposed to be a grand affair, something to help find the annoying prince a spouse—a tedious diplomatic gathering that he couldn't care less about. But now, as you enter the room to help him dress, his interest piques.

"Ah, there you are," the prince murmurs, a smile curling onto his lips. He gestures for you to come closer, and you do, obedient as always. It's endearing, really, how you follow his every whim. He loves it. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, you know."

He's loving how disheveled you are, your uniform a bit dirty from washing dishes, and your hair messed up from being blown in the wind so much while gardening. Dazai can see the small bit of relief whenever he pulls you out of your chores, though he always follows up with you doing something, anything, for him.

You busy yourself with arranging the pieces laid out for him—the sash, the ceremonial jewelry, the silken gloves—but Dazai hardly pays attention to the items. Instead, his eyes trace your every movement, lingering on the careful way your hands move over the fabrics.

You're focused, and he admires that. He watches your face carefully as you dress him, looking for the slightest hint of something—nervousness, embarrassment, anything. It's amusing how steadfastly you avoid meeting his eyes, as if you could somehow ignore his presence just by looking elsewhere.

"You'll stay close, won't you?" Dazai asks, his voice soft and coaxing, almost affectionate. "If I must endure the party, I'd rather have something pleasant to look at." He smiles then, a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, something predatory lurking beneath the surface. "Besides, who knows what might happen if you wander off?" An uncomfortable shudder courses through him; he certainly does not like the idea of someone possibly flirting with you tonight, someone other than him.