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Demetrius listened to Mal's theatrics with a mix of amusement and contemplation. Adjusting his jacket, he mused, I suppose the same could be said for domestic dalliances, a faint smile touching his lips. Not that he went that far much, he still struggled with the death of his wife and child, so it simply wasn’t a place he could allow himself to go often, but that didn’t mean it never happened, as it often varied with his moods.

The memory of their loss was a shadow that lingered, influencing his decisions and interactions. Yet, despite the ache, he found solace in moments of distraction, like the prospect of attending Lady Salvo's performance. It was a fleeting escape from the constant weight of his responsibilities and grief.

As Mal led the way to his office, Demetrius followed, allowing his thoughts to shift towards the present. The mention of the Grand Arcadia intrigued him. It had been years since he immersed himself in the cultural vibrancy of their society, and the idea of witnessing Lady Salvo's talent was a welcome reprieve.

Entering the office, the familiar scent of aged wood and parchment greeted him. He took a seat, feeling the tension of the day ease slightly. Watching Mal reach for the brandy, he felt a rare sense of camaraderie. Mal's ability to lighten the mood, even in the most trying times, was something Demetrius appreciated more than he often let on.

I had no idea Lady Salvo was getting so much attention. I’m even more curious now to see her performance. He paused and then reflected on Mal’s service and friendship to Deme, it was valued more than he could ever truly put into words. I do appreciate you Mal, I don’t always say it, and I know I can be a handful at times…. In a moment of real clarity, he attempted to express his emotions, but the moment quickly faded, his face changed to one of mischief and mayhem Deme stood up and walked towards the door, eager for the evening to continue.

@Malachai Valentius