“Young Lord Azra’el, you must get up and get yourself dressed. Your parents are waiting on you, the Family Rodhenja will be here very soon!” A young, portly human maid of the manor spoke in a proper Common accent. She had let herself into the dark bedroom, making her way across the floor to reach the heavy blackening drapes that covered the large windows.

     She drew the curtains that let the bright midday sun come pouring in, it reflected off her light skin and bright blonde hair that was fashioned taut into a bun atop her head. A stark contrast to 13 year old tiefling boy of loose cropped black hair and dark blue-grey flesh, that groaned and rolled over in the bed. The maid sighed and crossed the room again to fetch a cart she’d left outside the door, wheeling it to the young lord’s bedside. Kneeling down beside the bed, she lifted the corner of the duvet, finding two starkly yellow irises piercing through the dark back at her.

     To some these eyes might have been unsettling, sitting in their black sclerae, but this maid was very accustomed to them. As were all the maids and sevants of the house, having served the Slategraven family through its generations. But to see them like this, peering out from the dark covers, was a look she was especially used to. 

     “Did you get any sleep at all m’lord?” she spoke softly with a small sympathetic smile.

     “No. How could I, Madge? Father said today is very important, I cannot afford to make errors. Thus, my nervousness would not allow for sleep.” For a boy still so young, Azra’el’s vocabulary was well rehearsed, his voice already slightly low with a subtle hoarseness.

     “Hmm. Well that is rather unfortunate m’lord, but alas, staying here would be a mighty error in itself, now wouldn’t it?” Madge stood, pulling the duvet back as she did, “Besides, I’ve brought you some of the good stuff, I’ve even heated it as you like. It’s sure to pep you up enough for today’s events.” She poured the dark aromatic beverage into a porcelain cup and held it out as Azra’el sat up in bed.

     He took a long sip and handed the cup back, “Alright. You’ve bested me, up we are.”

     Madge walked over to a chaise within the room with articles of clothing piled over it, “You’re surely not going to wear ALL of these, are you m’lord?”

     “Of course not, I just couldn’t decide what looked best. You’re better at picking out my clothes anyways. These are just the ones I thought would be acceptable for the day.”

     “Ah well, I have always fancied this on you…and this works quite nice with it as well,” She held up a vest made with ornately woven fabric and placed it over one of the shirts on the chaise.

     Azra’el tilted his head as he pondered for a moment and then gave a sharp nod, “That will do.”

     Madge set aside her choices and scooped the rest of the clothing into her arms to go place it back in the young lord’s wardrobe room. Azra’el stepped out of bed and began to dress himself, buttoning every button on his shirt. Madge came back into the bedchamber to fix his hair, styling it back to flow with the back-facing curvature of his growing horns, as he affixed his gemstone cuff links. He took another long drink of his freshly hot brew, before taking a deep breath and exiting his room into the wide hallway.

     He walked tall with practiced poise and a steady gait, passing portraits of living and deceased family members that adorned one side of the corridor. He approached the balcony that overlooked the foyer and began down the large staircase that went down the middle of it, while looking through the large window above the doors that showed the arcing road out front. One of the doormen shouted up to Azra’el, “Any moment now. Lord and Lady Slategraven await for you in the main parlor.”

     The young lord acknowledged him with a silent bow of the head and pressed on toward the parlor. He took another deep breath as he entered the large open room. The far side of the room was a wall of glass doors, filling the room with the sunlight, and opened to allow in the warm summer breeze. The plush furniture was neatly arranged on a large handwoven rug, and the low table in the middle was covered in an array of small foods, both savoury and sweet.

     “Ah, there you are, my son.” His father looked him up and down, with slight disapproval for his lack of punctuality, but a hint of relief that he was finally down here.

     “My apologies, father. I had trouble sleeping.” Azra’el looked to the floor.

     “Chin up, boy. Don’t slouch.”

     Azra’el snapped back upright to meet his father’s eyes. His mother leaned forward in her chair to pick at the food in front of her. “Kairon, my sweet. They aren’t even here yet, we can relax…”

     Just then one of the servants rushed into the room, “My Lord, Lady,…young Lord. The Family Rodhenja has arrived.”

     Lady Slategraven scoffed at the timing and put down the cut of sausage she was in the midst of pulling from the food spread. She looked over her shoulder at the open doors that led to the terrace, “Orella, darling. You must come inside now, our guests have arrived.”

     The small, aqua blue tiefling child in a puffy little dress came running inside to join her family as they stood in the foyer to welcome their guests. The doors opened to a well dressed red skinned tiefling couple with orange eyes. Lord Kairon Slategraven steps forward to greet them, “Mr and Mrs Rodhenja, welcome. I hope the road treated you well?”

     “As well as a road can, M’Lord.” He laughed and shook Kairon’s hand, “We’d like you to meet our daughter, our darling, Roubellina.” Mr Rodhenja stepped aside to reveal a shy girl, about the same age as Azra’el, with stark alabaster skin, red eyes with pale red sclerae, and rich dark red curls that fell over her shoulders.

     Azra’el’s jaw dropped slightly at the sight of her, and Lady Slategraven cleared her throat to correct him. His mouth pursed shut as his little sister giggled at him. Kairon greeted Roubellina and introduced his own children. Both Kairon and Mr Rodhenja smiled at each other as the two eldest children looked at one another with curiosity.

     “Azra’el, why don’t you show our young guest, Roubellina, to our gardens?” Lord Kairon gripped his son’s shoulder and started to lead him towards the quiet girl.

     “Yes, of course, father. Excuse us,” the young lord stepped out between the families and held out his elbow promptly for her. “Roubellina, if I may?”

     She hesitated and looked to her parents who nodded softly back at her. She bit her lip gently and stepped forward to link arms with Azra’el as they walked through the parlor and out to the back gardens. As soon as they were out of earshot of the families, she spoke discreetly.

     “You can call me Ruby, m’lord.”

     “Please, just Azra’el.”