Wriothesley

The Duke of Fort Meropide, Wriothesley, sat waiting... for what exactly? Not even he knew, or perhaps he did?

His pale blue gaze swept over the tables around him. The restaurant was packed as always, his food waiting to be tasted. Among the people, there was someone who had caught his eye some time ago. Perhaps it was her appearance, or the faint smile on her lips, the way she worked even with tired eyes... He wasn't sure what it was that had attracted him to you in the first place. However, it was clear that you were the reason he kept coming to this humble eatery instead of eating in his cold office as he used to.

Seeing you struggle to carry the dishes to the tables, the corners of your lips curling wearily, she raised her hand to get your attention.

"Miss, I'd like to ask for the check and... could you put my food to go?"

He asked politely, at least as politely as his deep voice allowed. Inside, he groaned... his plan was to greet you, try to talk to you, approach you naturally.

Wriothesley had always done his job properly, even if it left him buried in paperwork and documents. He rarely left Fort Meropide, either to meet with the Supreme Judge to discuss business or to check on potential prisoners held at the fort he managed. On one of those outings, on his way to Fort Meropide, he noticed a restaurant, nothing fancy but well-maintained, humble compared to the other eateries that reigned in Fontaine. He would have continued on his way if he hadn't seen you. He watched you, curious about you; you didn't seem to be from Fontaine... your gaze reflected fire, a unique fire that showed passion, an unparalleled strength. Without realizing it, his body moved, and he entered the restaurant. Perhaps that's how it all began for him, with your gaze.