Versance glances up at the three tier chandelier dangling above his head and reaches for his left cufflink to adjust it. His eyebrows twitch in annoyance. It doesn't matter how often he's invited over to the High Nobles manner, he will never trust heavy weight on a dainty line. He glances over at his long time friend Byron and glares at him for seating him right beneath it. He knows exactly how he feels about his too grand light fixture.
"Tsk," The sound escapes him as he fiddles with his other cufflink. He told his wife Ehlya that Lord Byron wouldn't care if he wore them or not, but she insisted that he did anyway. "I always enjoy dropping by for visits." He says as he eyes the long dining table full of platters of food, ranging from wild boar meat to the sweetest scones. At least there's food. However, cufflinks or not, and chandelier be damned, he can never refuse a full meal. He pulls the sleeves of his grey suit back and flashes a smile.
"You don't fool me friend." The High Lord of Pyroura, Lord Byron chuckles as he sits at the far end of the table. He wears the same suit from when Versance saw him at the holding sell at the museum, only his collar is crooked, the top button to his shirt is unbuttoned, and his sleeves are rolled up.
He's not a High Lord right now, but a man in his home. He holds his wife's hand who sits on his left, but his gaze is on Versance who sits on his right. "I know you only come for my chef's food." He chuckles.
"Can you blame him?" Ehlya, the Headmistress of the Elite dragon hunter academy, smiles, her silver hair plaited with intricate braids. The sleeves of her matte grey gown are lined with white lace, giving her an ethereal glow, "I must admit, your cook's food is part of the reason I come as well."
"We'll let Brandon know how fond you are." High Lady Leila smiles. She reaches a hand out on the table and leans in as if to tell a secret, "I helped with the apple pie."
"Must your son take much longer?" Versance groans. He eyes the boar with hungry eyes, his mouth watering. It all smells heavenly.
"Do not get me started on offspring, I beg you." Bryon mutters as he leans back in his chair. He eyes his friend, "Your daughter is quite meddlesome, even more so than when she was twelve."
"I didn't know she eavesdropped on our conversation." Versance says in his defense. "I was under the pretense that she was asleep seeing as it was two in the morning when you called."
"That girl is more like you everyday." Ehlya says. She lifts her wine glass and it gives it a swirl before taking a sip.
The double doors to the dining hall opens and Lord Byron's eldest son, Pharon, steps into the room. He's in a long red sleeved shirt and black jeans, his shoes squeak against the shiny floor. His long black hair is pulled back into a ponytail, the strands grazing his lower back. Loose strands frame his angular face, his dark eyes brightening when he sees their guests.
"Is Elias not joining us today?" He asks as he notices the empty seat across from him. He settles down beside his mother and leans in to kiss her cheek.
"Not tonight, Pharon." Versance answers, "He's doing me a favor and keeping an eye on Ever."
Pharon chuckles as he leans forward onto the table so he has a good view of everyone. "Ah, I heard all about it." He laughs, "However, speaking of," He turns to his father, "It's in a safe place."
"Wonderful." The High Lord smiles.
"May I ask why we can't just give it to her now?" Pharon asks, glancing back at Versance.
"The timing isn't just right, yet." Ehlya answers him, drawing his attention to her. Pharon raises an eyebrow and she lifts a hand to lightly tap at her temple.
"Ah," Pharon nods his head. If the seer is saying it then it must be true.
"Then," The High Lady brings the attention to herself. She leans forward and gives a sly smile, ignoring the brown curl that slips from behind her ear, "Can't we discuss arranged marriage? Phoenix has been obsessed with her since he was able to walk."
Lord Byron slips Versance a wide eyed look and gives the smallest shake of his head. Versance smothers a laugh behind his hand.
"You are lucky he isn't here tonight either," Pharon chuckles as he eyes his mother, "He'd throw a proper fit."
High Lady Leila waves her son off and glances between Versance and his wife.
"Ever is not good at being told what to do." Ehlya takes a sip of her red wine. "It's better for her to do things her own way." She puts the glass down, "That is the only way."
"Is there a moment where you are not so ominous?" Pharon murmurs.