#an aim so true your god's blood dies with you

[incendiums]

Convictions of a Steadfast Star { Cigyun || Kurth

[ Prince Kurth of Grannvale — Friend. If Nothing Else ]

What undoes Kurth is the fact that the stars are unmoving, as they are steadfast in their gaze and unfaltering in their path across the sky. The refinements of polished society suit her well—it reflects in her manner of poise and the way her eyes give off a silent, faithful glow in the direction of another. His dear friend has the means to undo Kurth, and she does so every time she plants her heels on cold tile, waiting for warmth to reach her roots. It struck him odd that she would not allow herself to come apart, no matter how roughly her husband tugged at her loose threads.

What warmth could come to a star who could not come apart, but sought the orbit of another?

He descended the stairs, waving off the troves of socialites and advisors biting at his heels for something more than he was. His footsteps clacked with a well-tempered warmth, of which he'd gladly trade his friend in exchange for her gaze to falter— just once. The pianoforte was close enough for him to tease. "Are you willing to play for me, Cigyun?" She had no need to— but the vision of her dancing away at ivory keys was delightful. "I jest. I would never put you on the spot like that."

Kurth could not help but cast the corner of his gaze on the unsightly philandering of one such Victor Velthomer, but he refrained from mentioning his disagreeable countenance. The infamous man had another woman hanging off his arms, as though his footwork could attract every insatiable flower aside from the one that was actually his. Kurth's gaze followed the soft glow of Cigyun's curls instead, as his chest lifted in prim, composed pride. "You know as well as I that your good humor belongs on the ballroom floor."

Extending his ever steady hand in her direction, he wondered if he had any right to deign her an unfaltering star. What exactly would that make him? (Cut from the same velvet, perhaps? What right did he have to intervene then?) Kurth was hardly in tune with his own expressions, as the soft crinkle of his eyes cracked through his more stoic countenance. His reputation of being straighter than an arrow could almost be deemed a mistake in good company.

Kurth's hand extended, falling away from his own trajectory into hers.

"Would you do me the honor of reserving your next dance for me? I cannot mistake a great moment of happiness when I see one."

@fillespreferees