Byron wasn't going to be so proud as to not admit that, even though parties and festivals were a large part of his life as a son of an Arl and now King, he still at times got overwhelmed. Especially so when it was such a large event he could hardly take a breath and be allowed a moment to himself. Such really, was the fate of being king, he was expected to be present, visible, especially on a night he had called for celebrating his betrothal. The thing that had, until recently, been the furthest from his mind.
Until said betrothed had landed in his lap, figuratively speaking, via window of their own free will.
If he wasn't loathe to drink more than he should, Byron would've been thoroughly drunk for the last week over the scrambling done to handle such an event. The scandal let alone the rest of the political issues that had transpired...well a lesser man would've forced some sort of compensation from Fran. That wasn't the sort of man Byron thought himself, his father had raised his sons with a sense of honor, no matter a person's place of origin, and well, frankly he'd rather not give the Crows more reason to breathe down his neck by slighting their princess, even if she and her family were on the run.
Again the urge to drink had been increasingly strong in the lead up to the party and he had so far managed to keep himself sober until the event when the niceties and fakeness of the vast majority present had started to bother him in a fashion that was decidedly not deserved and even with the bull mask on he had found himself increasingly snappish towards people. Enough so that he decided to politely remove himself from the situation, something that during any other event before Franziska had shown up on his doorstep, would be spent in the company of the nearest person who had caught his eye. But the responsible part of him decided that was a bad idea, even if he'd had some interest from various persons, and so he thought to spend the time with a bottle and fresh air.
Or rather a bottle and a half, with a third on a small table someone had thought to place on the balcony. The best company he could truly ask for, with his mask off and a chance to look out at the festivities and enjoy seeing the people, his people, enjoying themselves. The quiet and the alcohol was doing him good, until he heard voices nearing and he turned to the door, his face in some mixture of annoyance and amusement at someone finding him in a spot he thought would be away from everyone.
The fact that he swore he knew the voices didn't help the amusement and when the two women entered he laughed. Not the loud roaring laugh he had at court, but the deep amused sort of laugh at something absurd happening and seeing his supposed betrothed marking who he assumed to be a favored lover, or perhaps recent lover, was enough to get that out of him. Of all the things...
"I trust then," Byron started as he turned around proper, arms splayed over the railing as he leaned back on it, "that you're both having a good time? Perhaps looking for a better one."
07-14-2022, 07:57 PM
