Zeke was feeling a touch sour. Not that it was particularly easy to tell when he was feeling anything other than a varying degree of sour, mind you. The trip from the half-Lician’s home in the Third Realm to the school in which he’d be residing for the year had been long and bumpy and lonely—save for the company of the churning butterflies in his stomach. The Constantine was a proud boy, as was his father before him and his father before him, so naturally he’d be hard pressed to do anything other than ignore his nerves. Still, they persisted to an annoying degree—though this was perhaps to be expected. It was, after all, the first time that he had traveled to Licia. Alone no less.
His mother’s open weeping over ‘her baby growing up’ had been enough to fill him with dread (and embarrassment) without the events that followed. It wasn’t as if Zeke didn’t know what to do—sure, he didn’t have any firsthand experience, but he had undergone his father’s own special brand of etiquette training in preparation for this very moment. Not that Zeke knew much of his father’s intentions. That would imply that his old man actually spoke to him any more than necessary (or barked at him, more accurately). He just knew what he was supposed to do—namely: attend the Licia School, follow his written instructions as they were provided via letter, and avoid being an embarrassment.
Zeke was allowed to enjoy himself during the coming year, but doing anything to even remotely tarnish the family name would not be tolerated.
It was nearly dark by the time his carriage finally pulled up to the gates of the school, and the opening ceremonies had already commenced. Already late and not getting much later, Zeke took his time changing in one of the excessively ornate restrooms he found, until he could definitely be mistaken for a proper Lician—fully adorned in rich creams and golds. Or well, could have if it hadn’t been for the hair that resembled fresh pine needles and the teeth as sharp and menacing as a shark’s (though to be fair the teeth were much less conspicuous except for when he smiled, which was rare enough).
Nobody seemed to notice him slink into the ballroom late, too busy watching something-or-another along the dance floor that he couldn’t see through the thicket of attendees ( and frankly what need did Zeke have to concern himself with dancing? It wasn’t as if he intended to do anything more than skulk around, himself). Nobody cared about the glasses-wearing young man creeping awkwardly along the walls. Nobody even bothered to turn a wary eye his way when he found his way outside, into the crisp night air of the surrounding forestry.
But once he had, he relaxed, breathed a sigh of relief. He knew he shouldn’t be avoiding the ball. His father would be livid if he knew…but Zeke didn’t care. At least the trees wouldn’t judge him. Zeke couldn’t help but laugh to himself, under his breath, though it was a sound easily masked by the crunching of leaves beneath his feet. My green-haired kinsmen.
The cold air flushes his cheeks and his nose lightly as he walks. Zeke puts his hands in his pockets, glad at least that the thick material of his jacket keeps him warm against the rapidly descending chill. Nothing unbearable, but it would’ve certainly been much more irritating if he had been wearing casual clothes.
Eventually, he stumbled across a clearing with a dark lake. “Huh,” he huffed.
For a good few minutes Zeke contented himself with staring out at the calm body of water. But then with a sigh, he leaned back to rest against the thick trunk of a tree, not caring of he got anything on his back, though it would be obvious to see against the light shades. It was almost immediately after that he noticed the body of the girl on the ground in his peripheral vision.
Besides being incredibly pretty, she looked more miserable than he did. That, if nothing else, inspired the normally broody young man to speak up. He managed a grin, however painfully out-of-place it looked on the somewhat-severe curves of his face. “Not really your scene in there either?”