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D'rena could practically taste the aether in the air this morning, her coffee doing little and less to wash it away. She blamed the trace of sugar from Nero having used the spoon first. She smacked her lips as she opened the mailbox to find two letters. Placing her cup on top of the flat mailbox, she looked them over. The first was an envelope that seemed to be made of some sort of Hingan paper- the sender's name was some sort of glyphs she didn't understand. Perhaps Gosetsu, she mused before shuffling the other one forward.
It was certainly a high quality envelope with a silver boarder around the edge, but no indication of who sent it. She flipped it around and nearly dropped the letter when she saw the seal of Ul. Her coffee was nearly forgotten in her haste to return to her house. She spilled a little when she set the cup down and opened the letter.
D'rena, my friend,
I hope this letter finds you well. To formally welcome Ala Mhigo into the Alliance I hereby invite you to tea on the next Lightsday, beginning promptly at the third bell in the afternoon. This will be a lighthearted affair, so pray be at ease.
-Warm regards, Nanamo Ul Namo
P.S. This will be a formal occasion, so do dress appropriately.
D'rena stared at the missive, slack-jawed. Tea? With the Sultana!? A loud slurp from the other side of the room broke the silence. "Is aught amiss?" Nero raised an eyebrow. She looked over towards him, mouth still agape. "You'd best close your mouth or Wedge would think you'd try to eat him." He sipped his coffee. "Not that you would ever mistake his head for an onion," he chuckled at his own joke.
"Lightsday..." she muttered before it felt like Brewer's Beacon flared to life in her head. "That's only six days!" she shouted. "But what do I wear!?" She scrambled into the bedroom and flung open the armoire. She took dress and shirt alike and tossed them behind her as though they were scraps of spoiled food after giving them the shortest glance.
"If I may make a suggestion," Nero grumbled, and D'rena turned to see him lifting a frilly shirt from his face. "Why not visit Ul'dah and have a dress tailored for the occasion? As I recall, most of your closet is filled either fit for a logger or," he looked down towards a discarded undergarment, "inappropriate, suffice it to say." He crossed his arms and looked back at her.
"Well, Mister Tribunus," D'rena clasped her hands behind her back and leaned to the side, staring up at him with the best doe-eyes she could manage, "would you help me find a suitable dress? I'm fairly new to this sort of thing."
Nero cocked an eyebrow. "But what did you wear back at Ishgard?"
"To hot."
"...Very well. I'll admit that the extent of my formal wear was a dress uniform, but I think I can lend you my expertise in decorum."
D'rena felt a wide smile come on as she scrambled for a coinpurse and began to fix her hair, only for it to falter a moment later. "Wait, only I was invited." She twisted back to face him. "The invitation didn't say I could bring anyone with me."
Nero smiled softly. "You needn't worry about little old me." He placed a hand on her shoulder, "I'll stir up enough trouble for the both of us." He slipped away and towards the armoire. "And I fear I'm also due for something nice. T'would be a shame to bring a songbird on my arm one day and look like a dodo myself." He quickly turned to face her. "Not that there's anything particularly off-putting about a dodo."
D'rena laughed. "I'll go tell someone we may be gone for a day or two while you freshen up," she walked over to him and laid a hand on his cheek, "my scruffy dodo." She ran her fingers across his stubble and giggled, inciting a little red to flow to his cheeks.