An invitation?
To a ball no less.
He had asked the innkeeper to read the letter that had found its way into his rooms and had asked the man to send one in return - asking the man to have his own invitation delivered to the Lady Alairia, inviting her to accompany him to this ball, if she was so inclined, after all he had enjoyed her company at the last one.
The wonders of the Hanging Gardens and the event itself was sadly lost to the blind young man; Raith had no concept of the sights he walked through as he entered the lowest level. It was here that he stood, hand behind his back; awaiting the arrival of Alairia. In truth he did not know whether she would accept his invitation; given the length of time between receiving this one and sending his own she really hadn’t been given a chance to respond in return - Raith had attended regardless, a hope that she would come lingering in his otherwise empty heart.
Quite what it was about the woman that intrigued him so Raith had yet to understand; though that was partly the reason for him asking her to join him - since meeting her at the Celestial Ball he had found it difficult to go even one day (if not one hour though he dare not think on that too much) without his mind drifting to thoughts of their first interactions. Even now he could perfectly recall the feeling over her skin under his hands - the minor calluses from her work easily distinguishable upon her otherwise perfectly silky smooth skin; even the sweet stickiness of the lingering apple juice could not detract from that.
He closed his eyes (out of habit rather than necessity) as he took in a slow, deep breath, exhaling through his mouth. Even now he could imagine her scent filling his nostrils above the foul stench of heavily perfumed bodies barely masking their own stinking body odour. Fat. heavy, sweating nobles whose blood pumped too loudly within their overweight carcasses as their heart struggled to keep beating within their meaty chests. They wouldn’t even make a decent meal, had he been so inclined, too much fat and not enough actual meat worth tearing from their bones. The Gods only knew how any of them remained upright let alone found a way to dance!
No. Alairia’s sweet scent had overpowered all of them; a mixture of honeysuckle, fresh morning dew upon cut grass and the alluring scents the Spring breeze carried, that had hidden the rotten smell of the rest of the disgusting attendees that night… some of whom Raith sadly could smell even now. Naturally they were in attendance tonight as well; few nobles missed out on the social occasion of the season.
The thought of it brought a dark sneer to the man’s face, one lip curling to reveal an elongated canine as a look of distaste and revulsion became evident beneath his mask. Sighing he relaxed his features and opened his eyes once more; silver filmed emeralds staring blankly at the people jostling into the lower level of the gardens while he remained slightly to one side awaiting the refreshing scent of the woman he hoped to escort for the evening.
His outfit was elaborate and beautiful and only served to make the man look more handsome and all the more grandiose. Several scores of giggling women had approached him since he had taken his position by the entrance; their perfumes cloying and as repulsive as their voices were atrocious to his ears. He had been polite, at first, but after one said group had tried their luck once again he had shown his true nature to them. They had dared to try and pull him away from the entrance; saying that the girl he was waiting for was not as worthy as they and clearly not very bright to leave a man such as he waiting… sadly for them they had insulted Alairia and without understanding why that had struck him and he had snapped. Snapping his arm roughly out of their grip (so hard and so swift that he actually hurt the hands of the two that had hold of him) he had leant forwards and snarled darkly at them that even if she never arrived they would never be half the woman she was nor ever worthy of his attentions nor of any decent man that did not have rotten breath and snort like a pig in bed.
They had gasped and cried and hurried away from him and Raith had taken some satisfaction from that. He could charm when he needed but he did not suffer fools.
No. He was here to meet with one woman and one woman only… if she deemed
him worthy of her attention.
Raith’s outfit