Remiel narrows his eyes at the scene; displeased.

Of all the people that filled the ballroom with a bustle, why had fate conspired to pair him with illeana reyes first thing? There was certainly no 'business' the ambassador cared to discuss with her. And the feeling was, clearly, mutual.

His displeasure doesn't simply contain itself to her either, oh no. It spills onto EARL GREY as well. His BUTLER SINISTEA always had a predilection for Illeana, after all. Even despite his master's unspoken (yet clear) wishes, Earl couldn't help but keep her company.

Past the pleasant chiming and approval of the possessed teacup, Remiel sighs, leaning back into his chair with arms crossed as he stares the glaring Golurk back down.

"You might have convinced Deus I'm the devil, Illeana, but Earl Grey won't be so easily swayed. Perhaps you should leave me to go find some rich tycoon to keep company... again."

The gleam in his eye is as bitter as the black tea steaming in their untouched teapot.

---

💼 TURN 1/4

SPEED DATE + illeana reyes

☉

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]"i didn't have to do much convincing," she offers with a lazy wave of the hand. the automaton is faithful, loyal to a fault. and not leaving her side has some downsides when it comes to painful breakups with a prince...

her smile tightens at the bitter remark before it falls all together. and as if taking a page from his own book, her features settle into coldness.

"you sound upset," she murmurs. "despite having already moved on." the sharpness is ignored, as is the infuriating stab of pain. it's a sore subject for her... one she pretends to not concern herself with.

the automaton rumbles in warning and she waves her hand once more, dispelling the mild threat before it can fully arrive.

it's not his business who she sees now and vice versa. the bitterness remains but perhaps it always will.

"and unless you have something else to say," a pause, a shift, and then she rises. maroon fabric shifts to refit curves. "i believe we're done here."

Remiel Calcifet
outfit

The prince sighs. He really didn't want to have to go through the same discussion they'd had prior. And, partly, she was right: did it even matter that much to him anymore? What was the point of regurgitating their arguments? Or talking about him again?

It was clear neither of them had the time nor the energy to continue clashing like this. So, finally, he relents.

"Wait."

He says, holding a hand up as he rubs at the bridge of his nose with the other. "I... apologize. I shouldn't have come at you like that. Please, sit down."

Even Earl Grey looks surprised at Remiel's reconsideration. But, eventually, the little teacup chimes and floats up to eye-level with the woman. Pleading eyes beg her not to leave. Because this could be good! For both of them! And they should try.

---

💼 TURN 2/4

SPEED DATE + illeana reyes

☉

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]

wait.

she pauses, the word eliciting a soft inhale of surprise. wait... for what? is he going to berate her further? pick apart her choices until she's a pitiful heap of bones on the floor? no. absolutely not.

her eyes narrow slightly and when they return to his, they're distrusting. crimson meets navy in the inevitable clash of titans. eventually, beneath the weight of a surprising apology, they soften a smidge.

"you're... apologizing?" it's rare for the prince to admit faults, let alone because of her. maybe his new relationship is good for him in that regard... she shoves the thought down as quickly as it comes, snuffing whatever life wants to breathe into it.

earl grey floats up, up, up until they're eye level. and she's, unfortunately, met with the cutest pair of pleading eyes. it's unfair that a teacup has perfected the puppy dog eyes, let alone resorted to using them on her. behind her, the looming automaton rumbles lowly. deus is wary of this, wary of remiel. clay remembers, salty tears burned into its skin like brands.

and it stares as she shifts, weighing her options. finally, a soft sigh escapes and she's reclaiming her seat slowly.

"okay," she whispers. it... can't hurt more than what's already come to pass, right? nerves settle like livewires, bundles of electricity keeping her too straight. one wrong move and she bolts... or electrocutes.

but... what is there to talk about now?

Remiel Calcifet
outfit

The prince nods in response to her question, still finding it difficult to admit or explain otherwise. Then something in the air shifts when she finally takes her seat again. It might have been Deus' ghostly miasma, invisible but not imperceptible to those who've experience with Ghost-types. He could feel the golem glaring at him, anyway.

Yet something tells Remiel it's not.

Regardless, the silence that follows is awkward for a moment, even for him. Especially when the back of his mind played reels of long lost afternoons with her spent chatting and relaxing so effortlessly and natural. The two people they'd been together seemed foreign to him now; an entire universe away.

He notes the timer at the center of their table and, prompted by the sense of urgency instilled in this sort of event, the royal says: "I suppose I didn't think this through, since we're almost out of time... but if you ever find yourself in Rustboro, and care to stop by the embassy for a latte and a chat... feel free." His eyes bear a sense of trepidation, half-expecting rejection and insults, before they shift away. "We can catch up."

Maybe it was a bad idea. In fact, he was pretty sure she was debating the same thing as well. But it felt wrong for the two of them to ignore each other moving forward, even if they weren't going to be as close as they'd been before. This was especially considering the fact that the two often swam in the same social circles.

---

💼 TURN 3/4

SPEED DATE + illeana reyes

☉

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]the air shifts into something not as hostile but still... wrong.

it sets her on edge, fingers tapping a soft symphony against tablecloth. it's no longer the warmth she craved. no, it's written over and left to die. the feeling it leaves behind is ignored, if only to keep her from bolting.

"i," she starts, stops, and shifts awkwardly in her seat. behind her, deus rumbles out another sound of disapproval. she's setting herself up for disappointment and the automaton knows it. if she understands, she doesn't offer more than a pointed glance behind her.

the timer ticks away in front of them. time is running out but... is it wrong to want it to last longer? ha, stupid. stupidstupidstupid. she uncrosses her legs only to recross them, hoping the movement stops her mind from going down the wrong path.

and then, the offer laid out has the air in her lungs escaping in a little gasp.

"why?" comes before she can stop it and the look on her face shifts from cold to mortified. it's not him, not really. she just... should probably process before allowing words to come out. eventually, her features settle into something more curious than before.

"i... didn't think you'd want to be friends," she murmurs. not after what's happened between them, after feelings were left to fester. it doesn't sound like a good idea, no matter which way she looks at it. and even then, she knows one thing all too well: she'll give into the urge anyway. the urge to see him again has a chokehold on her in a way she doesn't like or understand. even after witnessing his new relationship, it stays.

and she hates it, perhaps as much as she loathes him.

Remiel Calcifet
outfit

The timer rings out with a jarring blare.

It draws the royal's attention with a stunned blinking of eyes. Though not for long as his mind settles back onto her question and the expression with which she made it.

Even after all this time, wounds lingered from the trauma of their separation. The nagging thought that she'd chosen her job and her 'boss' over him smoldered in the back of his mind. But he pushed it down, because that was an ultimatum they had long since played out.

He sighs as he gets up, moments after other tables begin saying their goodbyes and exchanging participants as well. "I'm just tired of the animosity, Illeana... and, truth be told, Earl Grey misses you."

And a faint smile graces his expression before he tucks his chair in, turns away, and leaves.

I suppose I do, too.

---

💼 TURN 4/4

SPEED DATE + illeana reyes

☉