[PI] you’ve noticed your party mage has collected every sort of luck potion they could get their hands on during your quests. Which you found odd because they never drink any. That was until at a royal feast they chugged them all and walked up to and asked the royal sorceress out on a date.

Ten vials. Ten damn vials of multicolored contents, saved over years, all gulped down in a single night.

And it was working.

Across the hall, Yeden leaned against the marble wall, donned in a sleek blue coat stitched with metallic runes, some of which were impressive enough to catch the royal sorceress’s eyes. Her own dress wasn’t any less captivating, a silky, ruffled garment that cascaded down from her hips in ripples of silver and blue. Their outfits nearly matched.

Probably thanks to his luck.

“Since we are on the topic, what is your favorite spell?”

Elanor lingered for a while, giving it a surprising amount of thought before responding. “Fireball.”

“What?” Yeden’s eyes widened. “For real? I expected something more grand for a high-ranking magic user like yourself.”

“What’s not grand about a fireball?” the woman retorted. “It’s efficient, quick to deploy, and is surprisingly destructive for a novice spell.”

Yeden paused, reflecting on the times when he had resorted to using it as well. Not just to hurl it at hungry orcs, but to light the darkest of dungeons and start fires in the coldest of tundras. “Yeah.” He proclaimed. “It is quite practical.”

The blond sorceress inched closer, resting against the same wall. “And yours may be?”

“Nullification,” he promptly responded. “Suck up all the mana in the vicinity till magic is no longer viable. Of course, I won’t be able to use it either.”

“Well, what’s the fun in that?”

“To show off these muscles, of course!” Bringing out his arm, he flexed his bicep jovially. Although Elanor’s narrowed gaze implied more than just amusement. She studied them thoroughly, discreetly wetting her lips.

“Most mages like to show off their brains more than their muscles.” She remarked.

“Guess I’m not like most.”

All the way at the back of the hall, an orchestra of strings began to play. Couples quickly held hands, some flustered, some poised, waltzing their way to the center of the hall.

“What do you say, my lady?” Yeden extended his hand. “Care for a dance?”

However, Elanor lowered her gaze. “I’m afraid I must decline your advances.”

“No problem!” Yeden bounced back. “We can, uhh, get to eat something instead. What would you—”

“I meant all your advances.”

The mage grew visibly pale, swallowing dryly. He blinked at the sorceress who had her head lowered to hide her face.

“Sorry,” Yeden muttered. “Of course, you must be a busy lady, serving the king and all. I shall take my leave—”

She quickly grabbed his hand, prompting him to shrug.

“It’s true that my sole purpose is to serve the king.” She intoned. “But just for today, I can make an exception.” Eleanor twitched, then revealed her slightly blushed face, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “Shall we skip the advances part and go straight to my room?”

Lord above, why did that fucker not save at least one vial for me?