Interim Chancellor
Location: Get off me dude, you still smell.
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Aurelian chuckled, a low sound tinged with wry amusement. "Terrible timing, I know," he admitted, his smile a blend of apology and charm. "You're absolutely right. I should have asked you properly, somewhere with decent wine, away from all the banging and shouting..."
He stood straighter, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "I'll make it up to you. Dinner," he promised, "a real one, no tricks, no fighting. I'll even let you choose the place, though I reserve the right to veto anything with too much candlelight and violins. I wouldn't want you to think I'm that predictable." His gaze softened as he looked at her. "Though, honestly, I'd put up with a dozen of Elian's schemes just to see that look on your face again."
The moment stretched, then the corridor door burst open, Elian's voice flooding the space. The spell broke. The boy threw himself at them, a whirlwind of sweat, soap, and triumph.
"Shiraya, Elian!" Aurelian yelped, half laughing, half protesting, trying to disentangle himself from the damp embrace. "You reek of victory and poor choices." He gave the boy a light push, feigning annoyance, though pride gleamed in his eyes.
"Still," Aurelian said, nodding towards Elian, "a draw against The Hammer? I have to admit, I didn't think you'd last three rounds. You've got guts, I'll give you that."
His tone shifted, the humor fading to a sharper edge. "But don't make a habit of this. Theed is not Parrlay. These aren't training matches or tavern scuffles. The men here fight for money, not honor, and they'll crush you if you underestimate them." His gaze was steady. "You're skilled, Elian. Don't waste it by trying to prove yourself before you're truly ready."