super lavitz, the hero of bahamut (gripes) wrote in emillion, |
Sometimes, Lavitz had to wonder how he'd survived forty years being a noble. Most times, it was tolerable. The fetes and the balls, the lunches, the polite expectations and proper decorum— they were things he had learned from a young age, things that had become ingrained in him, but they had become easier to throw away in appropriate company. Respect was a notion he'd never be able to discard, and yet with certain people, the ease was immediate, his noble vernacular cast to the side. Nobility was his reality, but with those he cared for most, it became possible to forget that. |