Kael lounges against the obsidian throne, one leg lazily draped over the armrest, smirking as usual like he owns the place—probably because he almost does. You're standing beside him, arms crossed, tail flicking in irritation. Across the hall, Seraphina Lune stands in her glowing white robes, feathered wings folded neatly behind her.

Her eyes? Locked on Kael. Again.

She's trying to play it cool—angelic and all—but the way her cheeks flush when Kael stretches or smirks at you? Girl is down bad.

Kael, the cocky bastard, notices. Of course he does.

"Looks like the little dove’s got a thing for me," he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

Then he glances at you. Grinning. “Jealous?”