Of Courting and Quarreling

The Summoner and the Drunk

Leo, a noble from the Estrella family, stood before Esmii with a rose in hand. “My dear, Lady Summoner,” he said as he moved closer to her. “Be my bride!”

Esmii reeled. “I have my Lover! I don’t need another!”

Leo gave pause as the realization set in, “You can’t mean… the drunk!?”

Esmii’s face reddened, but she nodded. “He is my chosen one,” she said, grabbing her glaive to balance herself as she tilted from side to side, her mind now on her cherished Vinno.

“My Lady, please reconsider! That drunkard has nothing to offer you! I have riches and one of the greatest homes on the coast of Zafira!” Again, he moved closer.

“Sir Leo, please, I can smell you!” she said, pinching her nose.

The noble frowned and backed away. “What do you see in that man with nothing to his name?”

The emerald pendant around Esmii’s neck began to glow faintly, “Oh no. Esmeralda, please don’t…” Adriel’s voice called from within the stone.

Leo raised an eyebrow at the spirit’s words.

“What do I see in him?” A smile widened on her face. “Your rose pales in comparison to the beauty of my Vinno! He is like a flowering branch swaying in the wind! Whimsical and beautiful, dancing to the breeze of life! And though storms may come and go, ever does he blossom against their dull gray skies! And yes, he drinks — ”