Knowing How To Handle Herself In A Public Setting Was Something She Had Been Taught At A Young Age, Never

Serra nodded her approval when he explained. "That is good. She is a woman of good taste, you are well off listening to her." There had been a moment in time she'd been jealous and disliked the blonde, but she had gotten over it. She actually quite liked her now.

"I will wear it. It's quite lovely. If it was ugly I would have no problem telling you so. I think you could handle my honest opinion." Perhaps it went against propriety, but as long as people did not listen in she was fine stretching the boundaries. "They think they know what's best. It is hard to tell them that they do not. "

“Leta made comments and observations.  I think that I have spent enough time with her to understand the basics of picking out something that won’t end up as an expensive paperweight at least.” Antonin never wore much jewelry himself.  A chain was just something that could be grabbed or used against you if a fight went on long enough or got too heated.  Fighting against Leta had told him that much too, but he didn’t need to bore Serra with that, especially not on her birthday. “Don’t worry I’m not the type to tell you to put it on, it’s yours now and you can do with it what you will.  At most if I see you wearing it some time I might be quietly delighted.”  He thought to his own parents.  “Yes parents are hard to defy at times no matter your age, at least on the important things.  They always find the way to make you want to defy them, and still regret it if you get your way, don’t they?”

A little slow on the uptake, Serra needed some time to process what was actually going on, stuck in the deluded fantasy that this couldn't possibly be happening right now. It couldn't be some bad joke as no one had that terrible of a sense of humor, but that left one option: Malcolm actually cheating on her. Why he would ever do that made no sense to her, she knew he liked her, showing her off proudly and showering her with attention. "It's complicated? It's complicated?!" Her voice grew louder, anger and frustration obvious. He didn't deny it. He called Charity crazy, yes, but he didn't call her a liar. That distinction was important to her. Her world turned upside down again, stuck in a nightmare version of the present. Her boyfriend cheated on her and then submitted her to public humiliation. "You were gonna tell me? When? After you slept with me too?" Tears built up in her eyes again. This was truly the worst day of her whole fifteen years of life. "We're done. I'm breaking up with you." Turning to Charity she didn't bother hiding the hatred in her eyes rolling her eyes when she talked about them deserving each other. She deserved better than this and she wasn't going to let him keep playing her for a fool. "Yeah I don't want him anymore. Have fun with my leftovers. I know that's why you wanted him in the first place. Can't be like me so you try taking what's mine. Well you got him. Congratulations."

Malcolm was drowning in a self-made hell. He focused on Serra, her nose clearly destroyed, while desperately trying to extricate himself from the chaos he'd ignited. Charity, a ghost from his disastrous final year, stood opposite. The engagement contract, a desperate, callus-forming grasp at a solution, had trapped him. He needed Serra to leave him, to buy time to dismantle that contract—time and resources he didn't have within these cursed castle walls. His solution, a twisted logic, had been to engineer a breakup, something more dramatic than a simple "it's over." He'd known Serra wouldn't accept the truth. So, he'd manipulated, leading him to a hidden alcove with Charity. He hadn't intended to sleep with her, that intimacy reserved for Serra. But things spiraled, and now, here he was.

He struggled to rein in his panic, to find some semblance of sense, but a blinding pain erupted in his jaw. "You're fucking crazy,-" he said, too distracted now by his own pain that his hand clutched at that he didn't even hear her at first. Shit. Malcolm was glaring over Serra at Charity, and the raw ache in Serra's tone softened his own anger. "It's-it's complicated-I was going to tell you-"

Serra's dress for her birthday party, featuring an unnecessarily long train

She wanted the distraction from all the trouble tonight had put her through. Her birthday party had been more than she had bargained for. When her parents first told her they would organise a big birthday party for her 21st, she thought nothing off it, feeling it fair as they were demanding her to come back from Paris much earlier than she had intended. If only she had known what they were planning, but they chose to leave her in the dark purposefully- so that she could not cause a scene. While she thrived off of attention, she did not want bad attention. So after they'd announced her betrothal, to her surprise, she just needed to get away. Landing right in Evan Rosier's arms. Her eyes blazed with anger, trying to overplay the hurt she felt at this old wound ripping open again. Malcolm and Charity Burbage. Again. She couldn't do this. She wasn't going to do this. She wouldn't be played for a fool by him again. If he could hook up with whoever he wanted, so could she. Anger made one do things they probably shouldn't as was the case right here. Her eyes falling to his lips for a moment before she locked eyes with him again. "I do. Let's get out of here."

He always knew what he was doing, a birthday girl deserved to be complimented and given presents, of the best kind. Evan had plenty to give and something told him that she was eager to find out more. A nonchalant grin dancing along his lips, the wizard used his grasp on her waist to pull her closer to his body, dragging her away from the guests' curious eyes. "It's not gossip if I've seen it with my own eyes." The wizard told her, his voice low and steady, looking into her eyes as he shared what he'd seen recently. "Your ex-boyfriend leaving with a Miss Burbage, not just once, looking all too cozy." He finally stated, eyes holding her gaze to see if it did anything to her, one of his hands leaving her waist to reach the nape of her neck, stroking her cheek gently with his thumb. "It's worth plenty." The blonde reassured her, tongue wetting his bottom lip, his gaze settled on hers. "Want me to show you just how much it's worth?" He wondered, voice barely a whisper of hot breath as his hand on his waist slid down to grab a handful of her ass.

"My parents listen to me. They know I want to stay with them until I feel ready. They wouldn't force me into something I don't want to do. They actually care. Perhaps because I am the heir and not the spare."

A blank expression seeped into her features, keeping her hands down at her side and from wrapping her fingers around her cousin's neck and strangle her; and Alara wasn't a violent person. "Careful, it could be ripped from underneath you."

"Well then try it and tell me what you think of it." She knew Mira had good taste, certainly better than that younger sister of hers had ever displayed. Then again, few could be as excellent as she could, competing would be hard for anyone. Especially someone that inferior. "Thank you. So do you. I like your dress, the color suits your complexion."

While Mira wouldn't openly admit it, she hadn't really wanted to attend the party. There was too much going on, too much turmoil for her to truly enjoy herself. Still it would have been unacceptable not to make an appearance, and so she'd arrived with a smile on her lips and a small wrapped present in hand, adding it to the already growing pile that had been left for the birthday girl. She snagged a glass of champagne from a passing tray, taking a drink as she watched her cousin make her way over to her. "I just grabbed a glass actually. Happy Birthday Serra, you look gorgeous tonight."

status: for @willabulstrode location: Rosa Lee's teabags

Standing up from her seat in Rosa Lee's she waved to Willa, motioning her friend over. It was the middle of the day and there were more people around than she had thought, so she wanted to make sure Willa saw her through the crowds. "It 's been too long. I told you, you should've come to Paris to visit.."

She smiled, pleased when he agreed with her sentiment. Not that it surprised her, he was a smart man- that made a dumb mistake in choosing to get married to Alara, but luckily he got out of it unscathed. He could have suffered for years. "That is true, I look good in everything." Some colors and cuts suited her less than others, but that didn't mean she looked bad in anything she wore. Her eyes shined with excitement at the prospect of more presents, she was easy to please in that regard. "What kind of information? Gossip? About who?" She said having to look up when he put his arms around her waist. It was her birthday, she was allowed to indulge. "You patented it and everything? Must be worth something."

A chuckle went past his lips but found himself nodding amused at her words. "Yes, yes you are." He agreed, not one to shy away from complimenting pretty witches any chance he got, and finding her spirit quite appealing as he also believed himself to be that good. "There's no way you'd look bad in it." Evan settled with a sly grin, brazen eyes wandering down her body. "Ah multiple presents, that I can do. I've got two things you might enjoy, love." The wizard told her, his hands finding her waist loosely and having her look at him. "One is information, valuable one. The other is something I call the Rosier method, that one you really don't want to miss."

"Not when the other option would be listening to you talk." Serra smiled, overly sweet. Onlookers would think they were having a grand old time, catching up with family. Meanwhile Alara was her least liked family member. "So what?"

"Do you ever shut up?" It was amazing how much Serra frustrated her and she didn't understand where this competition was coming from. That is what it felt like. She wanted her cousin to be happy, but constantly dragging her down made it hard to even convey any of it. "I don't think I remember asking who you came with." She stated, feeling bad for the wizard in question.