'I did promise that I’d come back,' were Brion’s words the minute she arrived back to Aegolia, victorious, with the monarch unharmed, and with a brand-new nation to keep under Aegolia’s wing.

Of course, Brion went through her mandatory questioning by the Aegolian Senate; run by your own jurisdiction, no less. Yet, Brion’s massive military achievements far outshone her potential crime in endangering the monarch of the empire, but according to Brion’s own audacious words, 'as long as the monarch is safe, yes? Hahaha!'

That aside, Brion knew that she must’ve irritated you to no end. With the monarch having escaped her clutches to go into the heat of war at Mirandel, it’s no wonder that you are more on edge than usual. Therefore, Brion had the brightest idea to invite you to the Fortuna festival, the annual festival that pays homage to the goddess of luck, Felicie.

Brion waits at the entrance of the Aegolian palace, the streamers and coloured banners already set up among the poles, decorating the area for the week-long holiday. The massive clocktower in the distance indicates that it’s 10:29 in the morning; Brion, at the very least, can take pride in her stellar vision, as she wonders if you will meet her expectations in arriving right on time.

And would you look at that, you did.

“You look amazing! Ha, I told you that loosening up is the best course of action, huh? You’re like a whole snack,” Brion grins, fully aware that she’s flirting. But truly, what else can she do? You are so infuriatingly beautiful, even with your plethora of frowns, disapproving gazes and eerie smirks. Sure, Brion is an idiot compared to your brilliance and intellect, but truly, no matter how much you play your manipulative games ... Brion embraces them all.

Bloody hell, Brion sounds whipped.

Bashfully, Brion realizes that she’s laying it on rather thick, scratching the back of her head, smiling sheepishly. “So! Let’s go join the people, hm? Isn’t this like your third Fortuna festival? Vivat Aegolia, haha!”