Private Friend Adjacent and Apologies

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Aurelian Veruna Adelle Bastiel
Directly after the events of Trial of Fire

The noise of the arena faded behind them as Sibylla and Aurelian made their way through the encampment, the hum of voices giving way as they wove through the crowd towards the section where the Verd'goten participants' tents were set up. Sbylla walked along Aurelian's side with a rather smug expression on her face.

It was the sort that said she was utterly enjoying teasing him. Especially when it came to this whole... friend adjacent term he used to describe Adelle.

"I have been considering your… curious label of friend adjacent." She began, adding with notable amusement. "I cannot help but notice it still means friend."

From under her blue linen cowl, Sibylla's hazel eyes seemed to dance in notable impish mirth.

"No matter how carefully you dress it in courtly language."

By then, Adelle's tent came into view ahead, and Sibylla's attention shifted forward, the concern once again rising over Adelle's injuries, though the hint of her smile lingered. She swiveled back to Aurelian, and this time, a more serious expression settled over her eyes. She wanted to know if he was okay and ready, as she knew he'd been feeling slightly anxious about it.

Not that he'd admit it.

"Alright, shall we?"

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Sibylla Abrantes | Adelle Bastiel

Aurelian draped an arm over Sibylla's shoulders, leaning into her more than usual as they meandered through the encampment. The afternoon had been long, and the sheer volume of ale he'd consumed in the crowd was finally beginning to exert its influence on his balance. He caught the smug look on her face and knew she wasn't going to let his latest linguistic defense slide easily.

"I don't think so," he corrected her, wagging a finger. "It still means there are many hoops to jump through before removing that adjacent bit." He could see her amusement, but there were layers to social navigation that her empathetic mind simply bypassed. To Aurelian, people were projects. You didn't just stumble into a friendship, you survived a vetting process.

He began to count the stages off on his free hand. "First, you have the Acquaintance. Then the Peripheral Entity, someone you recognize but don't care to know. Above that is the Associate, followed by the Low-stakes Consultant, someone you'd ask a question to but wouldn't trust with a secret. Then you reach Vetted Spectator. Only then do you become friend-adjacent. It's a trial period, Sibylla. She isn't quite at the finish line yet."

As Adelle's tent loomed closer, the grit and noise of the arena felt a world away. Aurelian came to a halt, smoothing out the front of his tunic with his spare hand. He looked down at his uncharacteristically simple clothes, then back at Sibylla with a sudden flash of mock concern. "Do you think she will like my peasant garb?" He flashed his most dangerous, charming smile, ready to play the part of the supportive, if slightly intoxicated, ally, before barreling in.

​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

RAVER CALYUI'R, KALEVALA
Tags: Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes

The shaking had started as soon as she’d entered the small encampment outside the town’s limits, where those travelling to Kalevala for the verd’goten were being housed. Buy’ce off, Phantom had headbutted and nuzzled the side of her head every step of the way. The tent was empty when Adelle arrived: those of Clan Skirata that had journeyed with her and Kael were in the fortress still, celebrating a successful verd’goten. Kael, she’d managed to finally talk into taking care of himself and celebrating with the rest of the clan, making up several excuses.

The tent was empty.

It was quiet.

It was too late.

Adelle took a shuddering gasp of air and dropped the buy’ce.

The boulder hurtled at her, eclipsing everything.

Kael.

Phantom.

There was no one here. She didn’t have to hold herself together.

She was going to die.

The buy’ce hit the ground. Hot tears blinded her and her knees gave out. She dropped to the floor, her whole body shaking as she sucked in shallow breaths. Adelle curled into herself. Phantom squeezed between her arm and her knee, pushing her tiny body under her chest and purring as loud as Kamino’s thunder.

Too slow to recover. Pain ripping through her face, the mask that muted her cracking and shattering under the assault. Blinding pain. Devaronian blood poison. Agony as raw as her screams. The same pain in her side. Adelle staggered back, fell to a knee. Krayt loomed, a vague shadow through the haze.

“Pathetic.”

Phantom snuffled in her ear, the purring suddenly deafening. A rough tongue ran over her scars, licking up rivers of salt and erasing the echoes of pain. <<Safe. Safe here.>>

Adelle knotted her hands in Phantom’s fur and focused on the sensations around her. Five things she could see: packed earth, Phantom, her gauntlets, buy’ce, the bottom of the tent’s fabric. Four things she could touch: beskar, fur, earth, hair. Adelle’s breathing slowed to something more natural, even though it shuddered still. Three things she could hear: Phantom’s purring, Mando’a being spoken, voices outside—

"Do you think she will like my peasant garb?"

Adelle frowned. Was that—? Before she could even complete the thought, someone came bursting through the tent flap. Adelle spun around, one foot planted to lunge if she needed, a hand on the back of her belt where her lightsaber sat.

The clothes said some random attendee had just intruded her tent but the face said the King of Naboo stood there. Adelle worked her jaw, trying to find words. Then she hurriedly wiped at her face, remembering that she had just calmed down from a panic attack.

“Aurelian?” she asked hoarsely, incredulous, as she rocked back to a sitting position. “What in Corellia’s nine Hells are you wearing?”

Phantom hopped into her lap and turned an ear toward Aurelian even as she stood up to rub her head against Adelle's jaw. <<Loud man. Where Soft Lady? Want pets.>>

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Adelle Bastiel Aurelian Veruna

For a moment, Sibylla wasn't sure if Aurelian was teasing her about the various stages that allowed a person to reach Friend-Adjacent. She was about to make a comment on the matter when she caught sight of that maddening, cocksure, charming smile curve over the chiseled planes of his bronze face.

"More like she would have more to say about what comes out of your mouth than what you wear," she added glibly, even as she followed along behind him.

Although hearing what Adelle had to say next promptly set the example that was not the case.

Not that it lasted long, as Sibylla caught sight of a closer look at the exhausted and completely worn Corellian. Phantom strode forward with all the poise of a Queen towards Aurelian. While Sibylla knew just how amusing Aurelian was bound to find Phantom's presence, it was the way Adelle held herself that made Sibylla more concerned about the woman beyond her injuries and the trials she faced on the field. Would a healer come to tend to her?

"I had nothing to do with it," Sibylla added, saying, "This was all him."

Which was true to a degree.

But then Sibylla reached to give Phantom a quick soft pet and then turned to Adelle.

"Congratulations on your Verd'goten, Adelle." before adding, "Do you need help with anything? I am sure you are still running off the adrenaline from it."

Sibylla hadn't been privy to the panic attack Adelle had faced before when Aurelian sparred with her as at the time, Renn had drawn her attention, so the additional tells beyond the trembling fingers and how that would relay to a panic attack would be more telling to Aurelian than to Sibylla, who would liken them to be due to the intensity of the fights and the many close calls that had come with a fight with so much Force use.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Sibylla Abrantes | Adelle Bastiel

"Does that mean you like it?" Aurelian asked with a wide, cheesy grin. He performed a slow, dramatic 360-degree spin to show off the simple fabric. "It's my Mandalorian disguise. I'm practically a local now," he added, his voice dripping with playful, childish pride.

The moment his eyes landed on Phantom, however, the bravado flickered. He felt a sudden chill and instinctively took two quick steps back, putting a respectful distance between him and the Queen feline.

While Sibylla and Adelle exchanged more grounded greetings, Aurelian began to drift around the tent. He started poking at things, fumbling with the various bits of gear and Mandalorian trinkets scattered about with the casual entitlement of a bored king. He looked over his shoulder at Adelle, his expression brightening. "Yes, congratulations on the goat thing. Are you a full-fledged Mandalorian now? That seems like a massive deal. We must celebrate. Drinks!"

He sounded entirely too cheerful, fueled by the steady stream of ale he'd enjoyed throughout the afternoon. He hadn't noticed the signs of her recent distress, or perhaps he was simply choosing to bulldoze over them with sheer charisma. "Only the best for my favorite friend-adjacent who is now a big, bad warrior," he declared, reaching for a flask he held in his simple clothing. "The records will reflect your promotion, though your choice in pets remains highly questionable."

​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Sibylla Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna

Sibylla’s comment drew an incredulous raise of her eyebrows. Aurelian planned this? The man himself seemed quite pleased with himself as he turned like he was on a Coruscanti catwalk. Adelle scoffed laughingly at his declaraction at practically being a local.

“Not enough weapons,” she said.

"Congratulations on your Verd'goten, Adelle." before adding, "Do you need help with anything? I am sure you are still running off the adrenaline from it."

The question sobered the lightness Adelle had begun to feel. Adrenaline? Yes, there was a lot of that running through her right now. She shook her head then pushed herself to standing.

He looked over his shoulder at Adelle, his expression brightening. "Yes, congratulations on the goat thing. Are you a full-fledged Mandalorian now? That seems like a massive deal. We must celebrate. Drinks!"

He sounded entirely too cheerful, fueled by the steady stream of ale he'd enjoyed throughout the afternoon. He hadn't noticed the signs of her recent distress, or perhaps he was simply choosing to bulldoze over them with sheer charisma. "Only the best for my favorite friend-adjacent who is now a big, bad warrior," he declared, reaching for a flask he held in his simple clothing. "The records will reflect your promotion, though your choice in pets remains highly questionable."

‘The goat thing.’ Adelle burst out laughing, though it rang a little hollow in her own ears. She shook her head at Aurelian, pushing the last moments of ‘the goat thing’ to the back of her mind. Something to be worked out later. The too-bright cheer from Aurelian helped.

“Yes, I’m a full Mandalorian citizen now,” she said. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to give up the wolf jokes. As a full citizen, I get the proper title for my skill level—Iron Lord. And it sounds like you’ve already been celebrating.”

Adelle moved around him, going to a small crate and opening its latches. Nestled securely among the foam was a bottle of Whyren’s Reserve, a couple of glasses, and chilled stones. She had come prepared. Adelle held up the bottle at Sibylla, asking a silent question, before pouring a glass if Sibylla wanted it.

“At least my taste isn't as questionable as your sense of fashion for plainclothes.” She dropped one of the stones into a glass before pouring whiskey for herself. ‘Friend-adjacent,’ he said. What was that about?

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Aurelian Veruna Adelle Bastiel

Sibylla gave an affirmative nod at the offered drink. There were few times where she could enjoy without worried about being watched or her reputation. So when she could take advantage and indulge without concern, she took it. The woman took the offered drink and took a sip.

Mmm. Delicious and smooth.

Only for a faint sound just shy of a laugh escaped her at Aurelian's continued antics, her expression softening in spite of herself. It was refreshing to see him like this.

With the slightest tilt of her head, Sibylla's attention slid back toward Adelle, amusement flickering at the edge as she clarified.

"Do not allow his glibness to mislead you regarding his… friend adjacent distinctions, Iron Lord. He was, in fact, quite properly concerned for you."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Sibylla Abrantes | Adelle Bastiel

Watching Adelle laugh was far better than seeing her dwell on the chaos of the arena. If Aurelian was good for anything today, it was providing a necessary distraction. He didn't know exactly how she was processing the trauma of the trial, but he knew the value of a lighter mood. Besides, with a steady buzz of ale clouding his judgment, his lack of filter had vanished entirely.

His jaw dropped in mock horror as she revealed her new status. "Oh..." he breathed, letting the weight of the moment hang in the air. As she began gathering the Reserve, Aurelian sank to one knee with dramatic solemnity. "Forgive me, my Iron Lord. I am deeply sorry my peasant rags displease Your Ironness." He kept his head bowed, extending a hand upward as if begging for a drop of water in a desert, though his target was clearly the whiskey. Kneeling was a rare occurrence for him, given he was a King, but the opportunity for a bit of theater was too perfect to pass up.

Aurelian shot back to his feet the moment Sibylla opened her mouth, a look of faux offense crossing his face. "I am not glib! You are both glib," he countered, pointing a finger between them. He hovered near Adelle's elbow, his eyes tracking the bottle of reserve with predatory focus. He was a King, sure, but he wasn't about to turn down top-shelf whiskey.

The humor faded for a brief, flickering second as he moved closer to Adelle, momentarily stepping out of his caricature. He lowered his voice, letting a rare note of total sincerity slip through the cracks of his performance. "I am glad you are alright. It takes genuine courage to do what you did," he whispered.

The gravity didn't last long, however, as he immediately perked back up, his hand still outstretched for a glass. "Now, about that drink? My adjacent status feels like it's dehydrating."

​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes

Eyebrows raised incredulously as Aurelian knelt with theatricality, a hand keeping the Whyren’s Reserve out of his reach. Adelle looked over at Sibylla, checking to see if she saw the same thing or if a rock had hit Adelle’s head hard enough for her to hallucinate. But no, Aurelian was there apologizing for his peasant rags.

With the biggest osik-eating grin on her face, Adelle leaned down, making sure to keep the whiskey out of his reach.

“Good boy.”

Of course, he shot up to fire back at Sibylla’s comment about glibness, but his eyes betrayed his desire for the whiskey. It only encouraged Adelle to act like how she’d seen siblings act in Coronet City. She kept it far from his reach, a taunting smile on her face.

Just as quickly, he became sincere. Quietly, even in the privacy of the tent. Courage, he’d called it. The smile faltered.

Too late. The boulder hurtled at her, eclipsing everything.

Krayt loomed, a vague shadow through the haze.

Phantom’s cold nose touched her hand as she mewed. Adelle breathed, pulled herself back, refocusing on when and where she was. The smile faded a bit, strained at the corners.

“Yes, the ‘adjacent’ status,” she said, looking curiously at Aurelian as she grabbed another glass and poured whiskey into it. “What does that even mean? And what happened to the flask you just had? I’d have thought you were the most hydrated of us in here.”

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Sibylla Abrantes | Adelle Bastiel

"Hey!" Aurelian barked, giving a mock-indignant look when she called him a good boy. He pointed a thumb toward Sibylla, his grin returning. "Only she gets to call me that. And only if it's accompanied by a very specific reward."

Gold liquid swirled into his glass, and he watched the pour with the focus of a starving man. The scent of the reserve hit him, far superior to the swill he'd been nursing in the stands. "I want more," he added. "This is the good stuff, Adelle. Don't be stingy with the nobility."

Hopping onto a nearby crate, he made himself comfortable, swinging his legs with casual ease. The question about his 'adjacent' terminology earned a playful shrug. "It's a trial run for friendship, obviously. You're firmly in the testing phase. But I'll admit, today helped your case." He took a long, appreciative sip of the whiskey. "Having an Iron Lord as a friend-adjacent definitely has its perks. I expect to be escorted through all the best trouble from now on."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Aurelian Veruna Adelle Bastiel

Good boy.

Did Adelle just -- Yes, yes she did, Sibylla thought to herself, her heart-shaped face scrunched in a half-incredulous, shocked, and confused expression that was equally hilarious as it was telling.

Even more so when Sibylla's gaze slid slowly toward Aurelian just in time to catch his utterly shameless response about terms and rewards, and for a moment she simply stared at him as though he had begun speaking an entirely different language.

What sort of reward was he even implying?

The question was written quite plainly across her features before she caught herself, rolling her eyes lightly and giving a small shake of her head as Aurelian, now thoroughly pleased with himself, only demanded more drink.

"Do not let him fool you, Adelle. He may insist upon friend-adjacent classifications…but I find the evidence rather unconvincing. I do not know anyone else that he would sacrifice his fine velvets and silks for home-spun linen."

Only to then add with impeccable innocence:

"He has certainly never dropped to a knee for me."

Sibylla took a sip of her whiskey, entirely unaware of the chaos of just how that would be taken.

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Sibylla Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna

Their combined reactions eased Adelle more solidly in a better mental state than she had begun in. Aurelian’s feigned indignation and Sibylla’s shock were perfect. Adelle’s crooked smile spread across her face even as Aurelian berated her for holding out on the Whyren’s.

“Yes it is the good stuff, thank you for noticing,” she fired back. “And it cost me a pretty credit to get it. What happened to the bottle I got you some months back? Tell me you haven’t gone through it already.”

That had been a damn good bottle she’d given up. Although, she had made the assumption it would be consumed like a Corellian off-world would have drank it. Neither bottle was a NN182, thank the Whills. One of those cost about a quarter of her paycheck at least.

Of course Aurelian had ‘trial runs’ for friendships, like they were some kind of subscription service. Adelle scoffed at his expectations to be escorted into the “best” trouble. Part of her was tempted by the idea, but the rest of her knew that her luck sucked and that she didn’t need to be taking Aurelian into trouble. Trouble usually found her.

Sibylla almost immediately pulled the mask off of the ‘friend-adjacent’ term. Actions did speak louder than words and Aurelian was currently sitting on a crate in her tent in clothes the masses usually wore. Clothes he had referred to as ‘peasant garb.’ The man was a Surakkean peacock.

"He has certainly never dropped to a knee for me."

The mischeivous smile returned full force, becoming just a touch wicked.

“I can imagine that will change quickly,” she said, raising her own glass of whiskey to her lips. “You saw how fast he dropped just now. With the right encouragement, I’m sure he could beat his personal record. Just make sure one of those times he’s on his knees, he’s got a ring.”

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Sibylla Abrantes | Adelle Bastiel

"You got me a bottle?" Aurelian repeated, his glass pausing halfway to his lips. Confusion flickered across his face, quickly followed by a spark of genuine annoyance. If Adelle had sent him something comparable to this reserve and he hadn't seen a drop of it, someone was going to answer for it. Tona came to mind immediately. His assistant had a habit of intercepting gifts she deemed "compensation" for her long hours. Pursuing the matter would only lead to another exhausting debate about her salary, so he decided to let the ghost of that bottle rest for now.

The conversation took a sharp turn back to his theatrical kneeling, and Aurelian felt the heat of Sibylla's gaze. "All you have to do is ask, my dear," he murmured toward Sibylla, punctuating the offer with a slow, playful wink. He then cut a knowing look toward Adelle. There was no point in hiding his infatuation with the Lady Abrantes here. While he hadn't put his feelings into formal words, he operated under the assumption that Adelle had already figured it out. He trusted the Mandalorian like a rougher, far less refined older sibling who wouldn't judge his lack of subtlety around her.

Introspection was a rare guest in Aurelian's mind, but the steady flow of alcohol had invited it in for the evening. He straightened his spine, lifting his chin to maintain some shred of dignity despite the linen tunic. "While I am feeling particularly honest following my drinking habits today, I would be remiss if I did not apologize for my comments about your wolf title," he admitted, his tone surprisingly sincere. "It was childish of me to say so."

Shock at his own words vibrated in the small space of the tent. He had actually apologized. He hoped they were savoring the moment, because once the hangover set in tomorrow, he intended to deny the entire exchange ever took place.

Deciding the vulnerability had lasted long enough, he held his glass out toward Adelle again. "Now, back to the Iron Lord business. Does the title come with a fancy chair, or just more opportunities to get hit by rocks?"

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Aurelian Veruna Adelle Bastiel

Inebriated as Sibylla was, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the flush of pink warming her cheeks at Adelle's painted suggestion that if Aurelian intended to fall to his knees properly, he ought to arrive with a ring in hand as well.

And then, naturally, Aurelian only worsened matters by casually informing her that all she had to do was ask.

Ask?

As in ask him to marry her? To propose?

The misunderstanding struck with such immediate force that the true innuendo sailing between the battle-weary Iron Lord and the pleasantly inebriated King flew entirely over Sibylla's head. Instead, she found herself abruptly flustered by the notion of a proposal itself, too distracted to recall that rather scandalous scene from a Lady Velvet novel involving a gentleman, bent knee, and an exceptionally indecent -- but intriguing -- use of his lingual talents. So rather than risk further embarrassment, Sibylla chose the far safer option of finishing her whiskey.

By the time Aurelian offered Adelle the apology she rightly deserved, Sibylla's expression had softened again. She shook her head lightly at him over the rim of her glass. The apology had been sincere; awkwardly so, in the way of someone unaccustomed to exposing vulnerability for too long before retreating behind humor once more.

Honestly, it was rather adorable.

"I think a rather elaborate chair would suit you exceedingly well," Sibylla remarked to Adelle with a tone touched with light amusement. "Placed quite deliberately in the Embassy, of course."

Ther was a small, knowing tilt of her head and a mischevious glint in her hazel eyes as she added with a tease.

"And then you may insist that all who seek audience with you conduct their business from a suitably respectful distance below it."

The delicate arc of her brows gave a slight suggestive and amused perk.

"It would I imagine, establish expectations rather efficiently."

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes

The confusion over the bottle did not bode well. If one of his Kingsguards had stolen that bottle, there would be Hells to pay. Did they even pass on the flimsi-note that had been attached or had that just been thrown away as garbage? Not that she really expected Aurelian to say anything about it. If she judged right, it would have been one of those sentimental-emotional type things that was carefully kept out of sight.

Of course, the banter about Aurelian’s sudden kneeling kept on, Aurelian as brazen as ever. As he flashed a knowing look back at her, Adelle could only subtly shake her head and take another drink. Poor Sib looked like her mind had shut down, face far too pink from implications. And maybe the alcohol. It certainly didn’t help.

"While I am feeling particularly honest following my drinking habits today, I would be remiss if I did not apologize for my comments about your wolf title," he admitted, his tone surprisingly sincere. "It was childish of me to say so."

The memory of that night slammed into her mind full force. The banter with Sibylla. A polite and playful meeting wtih Aurelian. Sibylla’s challenge. The sudden whiplash. Aurelian’s rage. His condescension.

"And you," he said, turning on Adelle now, pointing with the hand still holding the flute. "You are supposed to help me out. Take the bullet."

His entitlement.

"His loss, I suppose," murmured the Grand Vizier, close enough that the words were meant for Adelle alone.

Grand Vizier Yvarro. Another shift off-balance.

"Good girl." She whispered into Adelle's ear.

Adelle took a slow sip of her whiskey, memories blending behind her eyes, playing in her mind quickly, relentlessly. Her fingers around the glass flexed, the knuckles turning pale, but she kept her breathing steady, kept the threatening storm carefully locked away. His openness threatened to undo it. It was too much too soon. She still felt raw, fragile, after her earlier panic attack.

Just as quickly as the surprisingly genuine and self-aware apology came, it was brushed aside with humor, a joke about the perks of being an Iron Lord. More opportunities to get hit by rocks.

It was too late.
The boulder hurtled at her, eclipsing everything.
She was going to die.

Adelle exhaled shakily while Sibylla continued the joke, even as the memory of chunks of rock made dull aches flare up from where she’d been hit. The easy smirk she tried to return as Sibylla teased faltered, disappearing almost as soon as it had existed.

“Maybe I’ll make it out of the vibroswords and bes’kads of my fallen enemies,” Adelle said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.

Krayt loomed, a vague shadow through the haze.
“Pathetic.”
She was going to die.

“Be uncomfortable as Hells, but it’d be impressive, right?” This time the mischievous smile stayed although she couldn’t feel it. “I could get used to making the tedious politicians grovel.”

The whiskey in her glass quivered. She couldn’t fall apart. Not right now. Not here. They didn’t deserve a broken friend.

Especially not since Aurelian actually apologized.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Sibylla Abrantes | Adelle Bastiel

"A throne of swords sounds remarkably uncomfortable," Aurelian mused, eagerly jumping onto Sibylla's train of thought. He gestured grandly with his glass, the alcohol fueling his sudden creative vision. "Perhaps I should commission a proper chair for you as a celebratory gift. Naturally, it will be wrapped in sleek Veruna black leather, but I will include a few personal touches to elevate it. I imagine the current embassy decor leans heavily toward minimalistic and brutalist design. How incredibly boring."

Laughter bubbled up as he looked to Sibylla for confirmation, expecting a playful banter loop, but his smile faltered when his gaze drifted back to Adelle. Her response had been quick, but the underlying strain in her voice wasn't lost on him. A subtle tremor ran through her hand, causing the whiskey in her glass to quiver.

Anxiety flickered in his chest. Shifting his eyes toward Sibylla, he offered a silent, questioning look, wondering if his rare moment of vulnerability had somehow misfired. Had the apology come too late? Had he done irreparable damage to this bond before the trial period had even concluded?

"Let's opt for style over terror, shall we? Just trust my judgment on the aesthetics," he urged, trying to inject some lightness back into the heavy air. The subsequent silence in the tent felt suffocating, confirming his suspicion that the mood had shifted drastically.

Setting his glass down on a nearby crate, he pushed himself up from his seat. He didn't entirely understand what was going on, but he knew when his presence was doing more harm than good. "Well, we wouldn't want to monopolize too much of your time. You have a proper celebration to get back to," he said sheepishly. If his blundering had caused the fracture, stepping away seemed like the safest option to avoid making it worse.

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Aurelian Veruna Adelle Bastiel

While Sibylla's thoughts were pleasantly softened by whiskey and celebration she was not so inebriated that she failed to notice when something felt... off.

Perhaps it was the strain of the fight finally catching up to Adelle or the responsibilities that came with it. Maybe it was the apology, or it was simply the exhaustion of surviving something that should have broken her.

HOnestly, it could have been all of the above. But whatever the cause, Sibylla could see the cracks beginning to show in the slight faltering of Adelle's smile and the very slight tremor in her glass. In the time Sibylla had come to know her, she had learned that it was telling the way Adelle tried very hard to be everyone else's comfort before allowing herself any of her own.

Something that would need to be brought up and discussed, but not here. Not now.

Beside her, Sibylla caught Aurelian's glance. The silent question. The uncertainty and for once, she thought his instincts were probably correct.

"Alright, Iron Lord Bastiel," Sibylla said gently, setting her glass aside and rising from her seat, moving in a rather silly manner as if she were coralling the inebriated King, her hand slipping to hook around Aurelian's arm before he could launch into another grand design proposal involving leather upholstery and diplomatic intimidation.

"I believe I shall confiscate this one for the evening and see that he is given water before he either trips over his words or falls into another waterway."

An impish glint colored her hazel eyes as they slid pointedly toward Aurelian.

"History suggests both outcomes are entirely possible." she added with a tease, a faint smile tugging at her lips before she returned her attention to Adelle.

"Should you need anything, send word. We will be here another day or two." she paused for a moment, before giving a slight sway of her head as if considering.

"Assuming, of course, the galaxy does not decide to produce another catastrophe before breakfast."

The moment the words left her mouth, Sibylla frowned, ".....which, in retrospect, was an exceptionally foolish thing to say aloud. Next thing you know, Aurelian's shampoo supplier will retire, and then we will not hear the end of it."

She gave a dramatic sigh and gestured with her free hand.

"Nevertheless!" she continued as her expression softened and she smiled at the new Iron Lord.

"Congratulations, Adelle. Truly." and there was warmth in her tone. Pride.

"You earned this. And despite all evidence to the contrary, I am quite certain you shall survive the politicians."

A knowing grin made her lips curve upward as she tugged the drama diva that was her beloved towards the exit.

"Though I suspect the politicians may not survive you."