He’s stood idly by one of the stain-glass windows that illuminates the base’s entrance hall, waiting for a certain individual’s arrival.
Observing the intricate design can only hold even the most patient of men’s attention for so long…
Echoing footsteps against smooth stone heralded the summoner’s presence and Alfonse breathed a faint sigh of relief, standing up imperceptibly straighter by instinct.
Turning to greet his fellow member of the Order, the prince’s gaze flitted over every notable detail of the chosen attire for this year’s Spring Festival.
He tried his best to take it all in like a honeybee spoiled for choice among flowers, his folded arms tightening subtly over his breastplate.
How the others managed to convince their tactician to wear a rabbit-themed costume alongside them is beyond him.
This unexpected sight was the butterfly that triggered a hurricane of warring emotions within the prince’s mind: amusement, intrigue, surprise — all of which he failed to keep masked behind his usual amiable countenance.
“Ah,” Alfonse stepped away from the alcove’s wall, his practiced stride bringing him towards the foot of the staircase, “You look…”
Trailing off, he took a moment to select the appropriate word to describe the sight stood before him: “…Festive.”