Pretendy Fun Times
"I get that we promised Fritz and Meinrad," Christell says.
("Every king should care for his country," Fritz Spitzburg is saying, his cape billowing behind him with wind that comes from who-knows-where before he kneels down, taking the hand of one of the girls swarming him. "But I fear I will care for my country solely to take care of you.")
"And I don't really mind using costumes," Christell adds.
("I do think it'd be hard, being a soldier," Ruffas says with a jolly smile that makes his words a lie. He's always fair and always small, but when he's wearing an armor even more, especially since he's by Siegbert's side, and the girls surrounding them have tears on their eyes. "But if it was a promise between friends, like Sieg and I, then nothing could bring us down!")
"And pretending might be fun, even if you know I'm not that good an actor," Christell murmurs, too.
("My family has always been interested in sword fighting," Lawrence is saying, with his sword still in its sheath since he respects the blade too much just to show it. He bows his head modestly, and ten girls sigh at the way he does so. "If we were in the old days, my biggest wish would be for me to have a lord whom I could swear my blade to.")
"But, brother..." Christell adds, flushing. "Do we really have to pretend like this?"
"It's what we promised," Earnhart says, and Christell knows that his brother is having fun with this: he has always had an evil sense of humor. That doesn't stop him from flushing as he touches his face, softly. "Won't you trust your big brother, Christell?"
The girls that have been surrounding him shrill.
(Meinrad, meanwhile, takes notes with a cup of tea besides him).