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Aranea had a high tolerance for weirdness. Over her career she had dealt with monsters, Ardyn, Daemons, Ardyn, at least one boyfriend that had asked her to make wyvern sounds during sex, and Ardyn. This, however, she was having trouble believing. She was not surprised to see Chancellor Izunia lounging on the couch a dozen or so red and orange flowers tucked neatly into his hair. Honestly, it was one of the tamest things she had seen him do this week. No, the sight that made her double take was Supreme Commander Ravus sitting across from him. The man looked like he was barely suppressing the urge to murder someone (which was the only expression Aranea had ever seen on him) while his sister braided an armful of blue flowers into his white hair.
Ardyn looked up from the magazine he was reading, flashed smile that seemed equally as fake as it was sincere, and said …something that didn’t sound like an order, so Aranea immediately stopped listening. The fewer conversations she remembered having with him the happier her life tended to be. She found herself unconsciously reaching for smelling salts, before her consciousness made the decision that there were only two possible actions she could take: make a tactical retreat from the former prince’s apparent attempts to kill her using only his glare, or laugh her ass off.
She chose to do both.