Elowen surveyed the room, slightly intimidated. Her eyes landed on a tall man with long hair, standing under the flag for The 13 Melodies. He looked nice enough, though the woman beside him had a scowl that made Elowen nervous. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the man.
"Excuse me, sir? You're an heir, right? I'm a scholar from Aurum, could I interview you?" she asked, her voice hopeful.
Loros glanced down at the young scholar, a dark eyebrow rising, noticing the distinct lack of Auroch markings. His head tilted ever-so-slightly in thought, A neophyte, then? Hm. He spared a glance at Isie, remembering her words, and then at the rest of the Jade Quinate. He nodded once to them, relaying his intent and consent and then once more at the scholar.
"You may," Loros replied, "As long as I get to interview you in return."
Elowen blinked at him, surprised by his request. She quickly shook it off, pulling out her little blue notebook and a pen. "Okay, sure," she responded with a small smile. "Thank you!"
"Okay, um, first question: what is your name?"
"My name is Loros Rosaire-Rhone Lumenstile," he said softly, enunciating every syllable slowly when he repeated it again. "Do you wish for me to spell it?"
"And what is yours, my lady?"
Elowen nodded in answer to his first question, already crossing out her first attempt to spell his name. "My name is Elowen Slette," she answered, looking up from her notebook.
Loros repeated his name several times, even spelling it out letter by letter. The Melodite tongue wasn't difficult, per say, but it had a certain rhythmic enunciation that was hard for mainlanders to master. "It is nice to meet you, Lady Slette," Loros said with a small incline of his head. "Why do you strive to become a scholar?"
Elowen answered without hesitation. "I want to become a professor, like my parents," she replied. "But first I want to be an advisor, somewhere far from Aurum."
She returned to her notebook. "Next question, what nation are you from? The 13 Melodies, right?" She glanced up at the flag above him.
"Correct," Loros replied, sparing a glance at the unadorned banners that heralded his motherland. No emblem or sigil marked the silken swallowtail flags; in Unity, the Thirteen Melodies were of one mind and one decision, unanimous in belief. Or so it is said.
The first Warden of Melodies chose pink and seafoam green for the waters in the morning and the salty spray in the evening and the goddess that slept in the air and the water and the secret parts of oneself. Pink and green have become the representation of the reformed Melodite culture and the promise of unification therein.
"Pink and seafoam green, our promise of Unity." Loros recited softly, a small smile dancing at the corner of his lips. "And where do you aspire to Advise, my lady, if you could choose?"
"Truthfully, I'd love to advise in The 13 Melodies," she answered, her cheeks reddening slightly. "I've heard how pretty it is and want to see for myself."
Loros inclined his head so he could better hide his smile. It was small and knowing and when he spoke, it was soft, as though he were sharing a secret. "It is beautiful, especially in the heart of the country, where the fields of wildflowers grow abound, as far as the eyes can see.
"When you go, try to arrive in spring, after the first warmth. The Sea of Blooms is a few days from the capital if you travel by cart, a few weeks by foot… but the view is worth it."
Elowen couldn't help herself. Something about the heir's smile seemed to bury itself deep within her heart, and in an instant, she was imagining herself jumping into his arms.
His eyes twinkled as he described the beauty of the Sea of Blooms and she thought she just might get lost in them.
She saw herself there, Loros by her side. They embraced as a breeze flew through the flowers, picking up petals that danced around the two as slowly, he brought his lips to hers…
She stared into his eyes with girlish hope for a moment before shaking herself out of her stupor.
"I-I will," she stammered, trying to collect herself. "Um," she cleared her throat, scanning the prewritten questions in her notebook.
"Final question, how do you feel about everything? The marriage, the journey, what life holds after this?"
Loros, inquisitive by nature, puzzled over the dazed look Elowen wore. Eyes bright and full, they nonetheless seemed far away and Loros wondered if it was something he'd said. He still looked a bit lost when she cleared her throat and asked her final question.
He should have expected it, of course, but it hit him in the gut like a blunted hammer. Loros' eyes darkened and subtly, he began to close himself off— outer robe pulled taught against closed arms, shifting away ever so slightly the longer he delayed answering. When he finally spoke, it was barely above a whisper; meant for Elowen's ears only. Not even the Jade Quinate at his back would be able to hear the response on his breath as he leaned in to whisper.
"I believe it a farce to continue archaic traditions. All of the people in our world should choose who they want to marry, shouldn't they? Choose when and where the ceremony will be held? It is a farce to continue this outdated mandate and I'm not sure I will."
Elowen listened intently to the heir, pausing her scribe. It felt as though he were letting her in on a secret, one that she shouldn't write down. Her mouth fell open at his last words. In the history of the Unification, only a small few had refused to go through with it. They were met with outcry and ostracization all over the land, finding themselves shunned once they returned home. Surely Loros knew this.
"But what about your kingdom?" she asked, her voice giving away her shock. "Surely they're expecting you to return with a bride."
As the surrounding din picked up and the welcomings began in earnest, Loros couldn't help but brood. At least until Elowen poised her question and a devious plot slowly began to form in his mind. "Aye," Loros said with a smile, genuine and somewhat cheeky. "A bride. Why can't it be of my choosing?"
Elowen pondered his question for a moment. The realistic and scholarly part of her could think of plenty of reasons why not: dashed alliances, threatened peace, and a break of a centuries-long tradition. But the romantic side of her empathized with Loros. Afterall, she would be heartbroken if she couldn't marry for love.
"Well then, if you could choose, who would it be?"
That made him pause.
As if startled, Loros stared blankly, grasping at straws and shredded memories from days long gone. "I suppose there's no one in particular," Loros said after a while, features softening as he spoke aloud in thought. "Though she'll need to be easy to talk to."
There was a light flush under his tanned cheeks as he continued, "I suppose that's most important. Would it be shallow of me to include 'not boring' as well?"
Smiling, enjoying the scholar's presence, Loros leaned in and whispered, "Someone like you then I suppose."
Elowen could feel the heat rising in her face, her cheeks turning bright pink. "L-like me?" she stuttered, thoughts racing. Again, the image of the two among the swirling flower petals came to mind and she thought, just for a moment…
No, that would be crazy!
Or would it?