flora
From beneath the eaves of a velvet-draped balcony, Flora watched the fight unfold with feline amusement. The air was thick with sweat and smoke and bloodlust, the kind of atmosphere that clung to the skin and whispered wicked things in the ear. Perfect for a night like this. She leaned languidly against the railing, curls tumbling loosely down her back, her green-gold wrap dress glittering subtly under the flickering lantern light. I
Her gaze flicked down to the two men in the ring just as Kaisel slipped past a lumbering swing. He was smaller, quicker, smarter—Flora could see that already. Her eyes narrowed with interest, a smirk curving her lips as she turned to the shadowy figure beside her. "Five hundred on the skinny one," she purred, plucking a coin pouch from her hip with delicate fingers. "The charming one with the bloody face."
The man grunted, scribbled her bet down, and took her coin. Flora didn't watch to make sure it was recorded correctly—she didn’t need to. Instead, she slipped away from the balcony’s edge and tugged the gold ring on her finger until it shimmered with a faint pulse of light.
Gone, or rather, invisible.
The crowd was thick, swaying and raucous, but she wove through them like smoke, unseen hands parting flesh and leather and silks alike. She moved with purpose as she slipped past spectators and gamblers, drunkards and dealers, until she reached the edge of the ring. Kaisel was squaring up again, his stance ready, the cocky slant of his grin half-obscured by blood. A burst of laughter came from the crowd as his opponent circled like a bull.
That was when Flora struck: a soft touch—nothing more. Her fingers grazed the dragoon's arm like a breeze in summer, a whisper of warmth that coiled through muscle and bone, mending bruises, dulling pain, soothing the ache like honey poured through cracked stone. The magic would settle into him like a sigh, the kind that filled the lungs and steadied the spine and hopefully allowed him to deal the sorts of devastating blows that would see her triple her money.
Flora uses her
Invisibility Ring | A gorgeous, copper-gold ring that, when worn, renders the wearer invisible.
and
Healing Ring | A golden ring made by the fae, capable of delivering mastered healing via touch.
Her gaze flicked down to the two men in the ring just as Kaisel slipped past a lumbering swing. He was smaller, quicker, smarter—Flora could see that already. Her eyes narrowed with interest, a smirk curving her lips as she turned to the shadowy figure beside her. "Five hundred on the skinny one," she purred, plucking a coin pouch from her hip with delicate fingers. "The charming one with the bloody face."
The man grunted, scribbled her bet down, and took her coin. Flora didn't watch to make sure it was recorded correctly—she didn’t need to. Instead, she slipped away from the balcony’s edge and tugged the gold ring on her finger until it shimmered with a faint pulse of light.
Gone, or rather, invisible.
The crowd was thick, swaying and raucous, but she wove through them like smoke, unseen hands parting flesh and leather and silks alike. She moved with purpose as she slipped past spectators and gamblers, drunkards and dealers, until she reached the edge of the ring. Kaisel was squaring up again, his stance ready, the cocky slant of his grin half-obscured by blood. A burst of laughter came from the crowd as his opponent circled like a bull.
That was when Flora struck: a soft touch—nothing more. Her fingers grazed the dragoon's arm like a breeze in summer, a whisper of warmth that coiled through muscle and bone, mending bruises, dulling pain, soothing the ache like honey poured through cracked stone. The magic would settle into him like a sigh, the kind that filled the lungs and steadied the spine and hopefully allowed him to deal the sorts of devastating blows that would see her triple her money.
Flora uses her
Invisibility Ring | A gorgeous, copper-gold ring that, when worn, renders the wearer invisible.
and
Healing Ring | A golden ring made by the fae, capable of delivering mastered healing via touch.
We can't make any promises now can we babe?
But you can make me a drink.
But you can make me a drink.
