The restaurant buzzed that night.
Laughter spilled into the streets. Plates clinked. The smell of roasted meat and rich sauces drifted across Solmere like a promise.
At their table, the Vixens leaned in, whispering.
"He has to be back there," Bunny said, peering toward the kitchen doors.
Nyxian sniffed the air. "This is definitely his work."
Zee tilted her head. "He said he had business tonight."
Llandra frowned slightly. "That is too bad. What kind of business is conducted this late in the evening?"
Nyxian smirked. "I bet he shows up and surprises everyone."
They all are hopefully optimistic.
They ordered anyway.
And with every bite, their confusion only grew.
A mile away:
Brannic arrived at the theater early.
Too early.
He stood awkwardly at the entrance, tugging at the stiff collar of the jacket he rarely wore. The place creaked and groaned like an old ship at sea, its wooden beams bowed with age. He'd only been to the theater once before - and that was cheap seats, loud crowd, and an unhappy ending.
This… was different.
An usher bowed slightly and guided him upward through narrow stairs to the balcony suites.
Brannic hesitated at the threshold.
Four chairs. A shared table. Velvet drapes.
And on the table—
He stopped.
A familiar bottle.
Brannic lifted it slowly, reading the etched dwarven runes.
"…That bastard."
Dwarven mead.
The good kind.
He poured a careful measure, sat stiffly, and stared at the empty seats beside him.
The lights dimmed.
Footsteps.
Merriweather floated in, humming—then froze.
"Oh no."
Brannic groaned. "Of all the people."
She crossed her arms. "Let me guess. You're the entertainment."
"I was invited," he said flatly.
"So was I. Unfortunately."
She turned to leave.
An usher cleared his throat.
Before either could object, the ushers removed two chairs, rearranged the table, and placed a single seat directly beside Brannic with a small table between.
Close.
Too close.
They handed both of them a sealed letter.
Same message.
Urgent matters require my attention tonight. Please enjoy the performance and amenities on me. We'll speak in the morning.— J.D.
Merriweather laughed. "Oh, this was intentional."
Brannic took a long sip of his mead. "I don't like theaters."
"Good," she replied. "Then you won't be staying, right."
"No reason to now." Brannic stood and grabbed the bottle to leave.
One of the ushers stepped forward. "I'm afraid the bottle must stay here. Have as much as you like in the comforts of your seats, but unfortunately if you would like to enjoy it, you will need to do so here."
The play began.
Ugh Brannic thought. Well maybe this night will be tolerable with a few glasses of the good stuff.
Voices carried upward. Music swelled.
Merriweather leaned forward.
Then squinted. She looked around and noticed Brannic looking at her doing so.
Somewhere above the balcony, a decision was made.
Immediately, He spoke to 2 ushers. One went in and spoke to Brannic in a quiet tone. Asking him if he could bring them a snack to enjoy. He spoke quietly, and though Merriweather was trying to both snoop on his conversation, she also was trying to ignore him. She was failing at both.
Moments later, an usher came in and placed a delicate pair of enchanted spectacles on the table.
"For the lady," the usher said.
Merriweather blinked. "Oh! How thoughtful. Did you notice this old lady squinting?"
The usher signaled that it wasn't he would ordered them. And then looked at Brannic.
She smiled despite herself. "Well. That was… considerate. Thank you."
Moments later some snacks arrived and placed before them.
She slipped the glasses on—and gasped.
"Oh! The brushwork! The illusion stitching—this is beautiful."
Brannic watched her reaction from the corner of his eye.
"Thank you for these," she made herself say. "It was thoughtful of you."
Brannic thinking she is talking about the snacks. "Well, yeah of course. No big deal. I thought you might want em'. "
Back at the restaurant:
The kitchen doors swung open.
Llandra paused mid-bite to see if that was Jax making a grand entrance.
But it was just several of the wait staff.
Maybe he isn't cooking, she thought.
Nyxian leaned back. "I really don't think he is here."
Bunny blinked. "Where do you think he is? And who is he with?"
Zee set her glass down slowly. "Do you think he's on another date?"
Silence.
Llandra playing detective. "Where all did you go today and what did you do?"
Bunny was feeling like she was being interrogated and didn't want to mention anything about the kiss. "We went to lots of places. We did some shopping, stopped by the theater to get a couple of suite tickets, and we hid from some kids.
Nyxian's grin went stoic. "He's at the theater."
Llandra frowned. "But he said he had business."
Nyxian lifted her mug. "Exactly."
Bunny's ears twitched. "You think…he is on another date?"
The thought shouldn't have hurt.
But it did.
Bunny didn't see him wrap them as gifts. So she starts to question herself now.
Was the kiss too awkward for him?
Back to the Theater
Jax was still hanging in shadows in a place that can't be seen, but he could see everything between Brannic and Merriweather. It was cramped and a little uncomfortable.
The second act brought a mishap.
An actor missed a cue. Another improvised.
Merriweather burst into laughter.
Brannic snorted before he could stop himself.
She turned slowly. "Did you just laugh?"
"No."
"You did."
"…It was the drink. Just went down the wrong pipe."
She eyed the bottle. "Is that dwarven mead?"
He didn't answer.
She sniffed. "The good kind."
He sighed and slid the bottle slightly toward the center.
"…Don't spill it."
Progress, however small.
The bottle was half-empty by intermission.
They talked.
Not much—but enough.
Craftsmanship. Illusion. Function.
How magic and steel weren't so different after all.
By the final act, Brannic leaned back in his chair.
Relaxed.
When a punchline landed, he chuckled.
Merriweather noticed.
Said nothing.
Just smiled.
Far below, hidden beyond the balcony, Jax watched quietly.
He nodded once.
Good, he thought.
Sometimes, all people needed…
…was the right seat—and someone patient enough to arrange it.