"I-I was most certainly not going to watch Lady D'siri bathe! I am a gentleman - a Knight!"

"Yes yes Jurrian, and I am the Empress of Cerantobri." Eleonor said, leaving Jurrian looking aghast as if she had suddenly dumped his head into a pile of manure.

"That woman is a vile, deceitful succubus, Lady D'siri. She is evil, wicked, and will stop at nothing until she gets what she wants." Jurrian said with a Shudder, leaving Victor still uncaring. He tuned it out. At least, he did.

"And? Your point being? She's married a dragon. A fantastic, ebony dragon! That's basically every Lady and their mothers dream!"

"But do you know what she d-" Victor lurched up onto his feet. Now his eyes were aglow, literally shining as his irises became little more than vertical slits no wider than a hair.

"Who. Married. What." He said, staring down, once again, into Eleonors eyes. This time there was something primal; a hatred that seeped into his very being and made itself apparent through his ever-present scowl, leaving both Jurrian and Eleonor stunned. Jurrian did snap out of it before Eleonor, but only by a moment before he managed to push himself between Victor and Lady D'siri.

"BACK, peasant! You are in the presence of Lady Eleonor D'Siri, daughter of Lord Bern D'siri!"

Victor couldn't care about titles. His anger was bubbling, and he didn't even know he could feel anger. His body was covered in a subtle light that slowly turned into a form that Victor was familiar with most. His armour. Just as ornate as those from storybooks and bardic tales of heroes and whatnot. But it had a peculiarity. It had several long strips of pointed, sharp metal around the collar as if imitating what pelt a woman would wear around her neck. Although only around the shoulders. Hundreds of strips remained, each of varying lengths as they shook and vibrated with some unknown force.

Admittedly, Victor was not proud of what he was doing. Emotions suddenly came flooding into him, and if he knew anything about how persistent and irritating human mages and scientists were - what with their damned science and disgusting magics - he was likely to be hearing about a large influx of knights and wizards around the capital organizing a crusade.

Upon realizing he had blanked out for a moment, he returned to himself as Jurrian began swinging his sword in a fit of anger.

"Filthy DEMON!"

Victor felt something snap. If there was one insult he could not stand more than anything else in the world, more than his people being driven to near extinction. Being called a demon of all things was the one thing so heinous, even he could not tolerate it. He would gladly kill one of his non-cursed brethren if they called him a demon. Any dragon would do the same. To a dragon, such an insult was as harsh, cold, and destructive to their pride, integrity, and strength.

The world slowed. And Victor's eyes practically flashed as he stared down at Jurrian, who was being either brave or stupid, for someone an entire head and a half shorter than him. The sword he swung was something that he'd not noticed until very recently, as in just now, but it had a sense of familiarity. He would not break it until he figured out what it was. However, that is not to say he was not opposed to breaking other things.

A series of three rapid punches landed in a kidney, his solar plexus, and his chin all but at the same time. Jurrian staggered back, almost bumping into Eleonor before he regained his posture, however unsteadily.

"A-Ah! Victor, uhm... please, do forgive him? He did not mean what he sa-"

"No." Victor said, walking to grab his sword. A long-bladed sword that resembled a greatsword, almost, was soon in his hand as he reapproached Jurrian, the failure that Victor had deemed him to be. Standing stalwart, somehow, Jurrian looked infuriated. Bloodshot eyes, a vein in his forehead, and a bloody nose. "I warned you both what would happen if you called me a demon, the greatest insult a dragon can receive. More than his name. More than his titles, his hoard, or his children. You never call a dragon a demon and live." Victor didn't even sound angry. He sounded calm. His voice was so eerily blank and neutral that one would think he was reading a script monotonously.

"He must live and die with his choices." He said, not noticing the paling face of Jurrian, and the confusion of Eleonor.

"V-Victor, wait, please!" Eleonor called out as he raised his sword. Thinkthinkthinkthink! OH SHI- "The Empress who married the dragon!" She yelled, closing her eyes as she heard the whistle of the blade cut the air itself and land on the ground.

Silence reigned supreme for several long moments. The only sounds which remained were a duet of breaths and the wind blowing through the leaves and grass. Then, another sound. The swip of a blade pulling back and then... only the breathing.

Opening her eyes slowly, she could hardly believe she was alive. Jurrian had long since dropped his blade. And his arms, legs, and head were all there. Yes, yes, he seemed in one piece.

"Speak, Eleonor. Of this woman who married a dragon. And speak of her fast. Patience I have is somehow running thin. Emotions are returning and the biggest one by far is rage and fury." He spoke with a conviction of a man who had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. "Your words may yet stave off your failure of a knights execution."

His eyes had not once stopped glowing, and yet despite that, and despite the air around him saying to not do anything else but listen to him, listen and survive, Eleonor had a burning question now, and it was her condition.

"You are not in a position to demand conditions."

"You want to know what I know of the lady who married a dragon, right?"

"..."

She took his silence as affirmation.

"You said Jurrian had... insulted a... a dragon."

"Yes."

"Are you..."

"Yes."

"And you heard me say that it was..."

"Every lady and their mothers dream to marry one."

"Oh Farias save me..."

And like that, as if by some supernatural whim...

Victor scowled.