high enough

Byron wasn't the sort to be jealous, and he could hardly be so when it came to him stepping into two lovers as it was, but part of him, he would admit, was. The ease the two shared as they spoke and touched one another gave him a stabbing, nagging feeling that he pushed aside because it was hardly fair to them if he was jealous and it would ruin the mood of the moment. Which, truthfully, as Manon didn't seem to mind his hand or him and Fran hadn't turned about to stab him for daring to touch them, meant a great deal to keep as it was.

But as he pushed passed that jealousy, passed that nagging feeling in his gut, he turned his smile still to Manon and at her addressing him by name, at Fran mentioning how he'd not like her fire and still that smile stayed because it was easier to smile and put on the charm now than it would be later. "I like to think I always have been, though the opinions of others is always appreciated when it comes to my charm." Not one to brag or boast about his accomplishments, Byron kept to himself about such things and reveled in it when people noticed. Not always the best of things when it came to being a nobleman but it'd earned him praise back home when he'd fought alongside his father's soldiers and he hadn't bragged the entire time like some young Mabari pup proud of his first kill.

How Manon had used his name gave him a warm feeling he hadn't felt in ages, coupled with being pulled down for a kiss, like he wouldn't take such an invitation, was enough to make him ignore that doubt, that mistrust he had. That they were using him, two beautiful people who managed to charm a drunk man into things that they could later hold over him down the line, putting him once again in someone else's pocket and he wasn't sure he could handle that again. Handle his trust being broken, for he'd allowed Fran into his home even after her untimely arrival, allowed the Orlesians into his kingdom knowing that they still were not on the best of terms (his father was rolling in his grave, he had little doubt). But that warm feeling and the alcohol allowed him to ignore it, at least for the moment, to just enjoy however things went. For if he couldn't enjoy himself now, then what kind of man was he?

The alcohol also had allowed perhaps, the most vulnerable he could be in front of Manon for those few moments she watched his face after the kiss, his smile a little brighter, before he put that more controlled look back as he pulled back some, standing up a little taller to turn his attention back to Fran. Back, truthfully, properly, on his betrothed even as Manon pulled them into a kiss and he hummed in thought but a moment before taking his now free hand to rest on the small of Manon's back, his arm loosening some about Fran's shoulders as he leaned down to kiss along Fran's neck where he was able between the two other royals kissing. Carefully doing so at first as to not leave a mark, but as he worked his way up their neck he got more eager than intended and if he left marks behind well he figured it only fair. Fran was his betrothed, he was allowed such things surely.

Before he could add more to their neck, he managed to pull back and whisper in their ear, "Is it her that has the appetite, my dear, or perhaps you? I think I could handle being burned to see some of that."