[SRP] Bernese Ball

[WyvernSlayer]

As he guided Cecily away from the castle guards, Satsume felt someone else come up from behind him.  "Satsume, please be a little more discreet. We don't want to cause a panic."

“Shad, you do your job and I’ll do mine, okay?” said Satsume in an aggravated tone.  “Go have a cocktail and rub elbows with your long-lost cousins or whatever.”  Cecily paused, resisting his gentle nudge away from the ballroom, and gave him a perplexing glare.

“I wish to retire to my quarters. Our companions may join us if they wish,” she said curtly. “I will speak more freely then.”

Satsume heaved a frustrated sigh.  “Very well.”  As he began to signal Shad, he heard armor clanking over the low din of the ballroom.  And again – that agonizingly familiar scent from before.  Lita and Goldhardt.

“Would you like for us to join you, as well?” asked Lita.

“Might as well,” said Satsume.  As he waved his companions away from the ballroom and down the hallway, he noticed that Cecily had already rounded the corner, putting herself out of sight briefly.  As Satsume quickened his step to catch up with her, he felt a strange… presence.  Like a pair of eyes staring expectantly at him.

Only this time, they definitely weren’t Cecily’s.

“Wait,” he said tersely.  “Miss Lita.  I would speak with you, privately.”  He could feel his heartbeat quicken, as the pieces all started to come together in his head.  He gestured to the nearest open door – a sort of trophy room for displaying hunted game and collected ceremonial weaponry.  As he ushered Lita and Goldhardt inside, his mind raced.

There’s no way.  You’ve got to be wrong about this.  But… the scent.  The walk.  The stare!  There’s only one person it could be…  He closed the door behind him, which prompted Goldhardt to stiffen.  Satsume quickly held up his hands.

“Peace!” he said quickly.  “I just… there’s something I need to know.”

Lita was staring at him quizzically.  Satsume could feel his heart pounding with dreadful anticipation.  He lowered his hands.  Slowly, he walked forward… until he was within arm’s reach of the towering suit of armor.  He stared, unblinking, into the helmet’s visor.

Goldhardt seemed to want to either step back or push Satsume away, but instead peered over to Lita.

Satsume took one final deep breath to settle his nerves, then spoke again, trying his best to keep up his confident front.

“Miss Lita,” he said, his eyes still fixated on Goldhardt’s featureless face.  “I believe I know what your walking suit of cats is.  Or rather…”  He raised his finger and pointed directly at Goldhardt’s chest.

“…who she is.”

"Oh!”  Lita’s expression broke into legitimate shock for a brief instant before returning to match her playful-sounding voice.  “Really? Hmmmm... Well who do you think they are? I can't confirm or deny anything until you've made a claim. That would be against the spirit of keeping it unknown."

Satsume took an audible whiff of the air.  There it was – that distinct, mildly musky, but floral aroma that he remembered from months before.  “There’s only one person I know who could keep up in that kind of armor, with that kind of walk… and that kind of perfume.”

This was it.  Now or never.  Come on, Satsume.  Say it.  Say it!  He lowered his voice further, and stared directly into Goldhardt’s empty void of a glare.

“Orica of Tania.”