wedding bell blues

Loren just stared at Sunjata. ”Is she right to think that?” There wasn't any judgment in the summoner's voice, simply a question. Snorting, he shook his head. "As I already said, you're not." He tilted his head and gave the bartender another pointed look. "If I told you I was drowning, would you say I was fine?" The Launceleyn's voice was as sharp as his expression. When the other man revealed his tradition, Loren barked out a laugh. However, his eyes filled with something akin to horror soon enough. "Oh shit, you're serious." As his hands clenched into fists, he dropped them into his lap. "How about we don't draw on Phoebe with blood on her wedding day and claim her as your property in a horrifyingly barbaric custom and instead find something that would actually honor your ancestors and her properly." LOREN Not quite an open book