The annual banquet. You find yourself alone at the bar, your gaze darting from the orchestra assembled by King Rayner, the window looking out into the snow ridden world, and the guard you had grown used to seeing, Lyall Reed. He notices your gaze, smiling and waving at you, his tail wagging. It brings a smile to your face. You go back at looking at your drink in your hand before you notice a hand.

“Care for a dance?”

His eyes, his faint blush, his unsteady hand. It’s charming and authentic