No sooner had Luke descended the stair case had someone taken his hand from the railing and given him a firm handshake. The man was dressed in the formal uniform of the Hagar military albeit flowered up with pinned up lapels, badges and all manner of cords decorating his upper body. His head too carried a heavy scent of perfume (or cologne, both smelled repulsive to Luke for him to see a difference) and his hair was slicked back with enough hair gel to make his head seem helmeted. A ceremonial sword sword hung at his side which was more decorated than the man himself only because it was able to be encrusted with jewels.

"Luke! So glad you could make it," the man said with a wide grin, then added off-handedly, "Wonderful weather we're having today, yes?"

Luke replied with one of his own well practiced if not forced smiles. "Yes, perfect for a wedding, First Lieutenant."

"Oh come on. I told you to call me Cor."

Luke's eyes were already surveying the sea of feathered hats and plumes. "So has Lady Heravera arrived yet?"

"Still obsessing over her are we?"

It was almost surprising how quickly Luke's smile fell off of his face. He cast Cor a critical eye. "As an airship engineer to another, what we share is respect for one another."

"Seems rather one sided to me."

"Many things are one sided to you."

"Okay, okay!" The First Lieutenant raised his hands in surrender. "No need to get all snippy with me. If you're wondering, Lady Heravera was asked to join the royal entourage." Cor gave a shrug. "Knowing her, they probably want to flaunt off their knowledge of airship engineering off to the other countries, and what better way to do it than to put the creator herself up on the stage?"

"Oh." Luke withdrew, lips pursed and his frown not all yet receded. "Is that so."

"Quite an honor, if I do say so myself."

"Yes, you are very good at boasting other people's achievements, Lieutenant."

"Again? Luke, call me Cor already. How long have we know each other?"

"Less than six months. Unless that qualifies us as childhood friends." Luke gave a light shrug where it seemed a caterer seemingly materialized and slipped a glass of red wine into Luke's hand before he could even relax his shoulders. Of course, Luke followed up his motion with a sip from his glass, as if it had always been there. He took a moment to savor the flavor of the wine, and more importantly, the dulling effect it had on his headache. "Anyway, it seems you've moved from the battlefield to shaking people's hands."

Cor, now with a glass of his own, let out a sigh. "Well, this is technically a war building, even if it acts as a tourist spot now. I'm just doubling as a hand shaker and a guard."

"So I've noticed." It wasn't just the front door that was guarded. The entire top balcony was covered in guards, their weapons concealed by their ceremonial dressings, all standing statue-like overlooking the crowd below. Luke couldn't see them, but he was sure the Hagar muskets were hiding somewhere in their garb. The bottom floor, too was outlined with elites, fully helmeted and armored. Even if their armor was well polished and shined, even draped with precious cloths, no doubt they still retained their strength. Just looking at them completely covered in metal, in black iron, the pounded man made metal, made Luke's stomach cringe. Having them outline the premise of the bottom floor made the Citadel seem that much smaller. Luke downed the rest of his wine with a single gulp. "I suppose shoving all three royal families and the countries' nobles into one building warrants more than three guards."

"More than thirty guards, Luke. And if we had the men, more than three hundred guards, but we simply wouldn't know where to put them."

"Outside's a start."

"Yes, if we wanted to make the Citadel look like it were under siege. But what am I holding you here for?" Cor waved his glass to the side and released. But just as it looked like it would shatter upon the floor, a caterer caught the glass standing with a wooden plate. Luke gave off his empty glass too and the caterer whisked the glasses away. Cor was already gesturing Luke deeper into the mess of over dressed men and women. "Go! Mingle, boast, do whatever it is you nobles do!"

The First Lieutenant gave Luke a wink, made more obvious by the growing distance between them, before turning around and leaving Luke to wander the crowds and try hard not to step on the hems of the dresses. Now that he was actually walking among the nobles, he recognized some of them. More specifically the legendaries in the military world.

The Commander of Griswold, Cecile Rosenguard, was more renowned for being a woman rather than any military feats. Her long hair was black as night, and her eyes were an icy blue, a beauty in every sense of the word, but unfortunately that's where her womanly features ended. She was taller than Luke, as much as he regretted to admit it, and she was built like an ox. To this day, Griswold is the only nation to allow women to act as a commissioned officer, much less the commander of an army. Of course, she was as good as any man and twice as intimidating to confront as any general, especially when she carried her broad sword with her.

Arthur Lowell was acting commander of Pelta Lunata (second to His Majesty Lannister), rumored to retire soon due to his age and now due to a coming peace treaty. Already age 55, which was considered old for humans, Arthur had short gray hair and smiling wrinkles around his eyes, which were they only things that betrayed his age. The rest of him were well built and muscled and his mind was always calm and collected, at least that was what the soldiers told of him. Supposedly he could kill a man with his thumb. And skin a cow with his bare hands. His family had long since held the Pelta Lunata military command.

Arthur Lowell's son, Cedric Lowell, was to inherit Commander of Pelta Lunata but only the title. Luke could only see this as for the best. The man was only twenty seven years of age and reckless as any arrogant teenager was. He shared his father's strength and dexterity, even expertise with the sword, but not his father's patience. Not having known the battlefield, Cedric spent most of his time making flashy 'signature moves' and showing them off before his friends. And now that he will never know the battlefield, it seemed the audience for Cedric's swordplay was increasing. The man was already doing his absolute best to make himself drunk. His laughs were the loudest thing in the Citadel.

Luke had half a mind to go stalk the food bar until the bride and groom were chased out of their closets before someone had called his name. He turned around to find himself face to face with another male. Before Luke could even wonder where the man came from, his hand was taken into another hand shake.

"Good afternoon, Lord Adele." Black suit, white shirt and red ribbon. Not the flashiest of outfits, not that Luke minded, but the man looked like he were in mourning. The man had striking violet eyes and a smile across his face that mimicked genuine happiness to meet someone, only Luke had made his own share of fake smiles to recognize a false one when he saw it. "Pleasure to meet you."

Luke smiled pleasantly back, withdrawing his hands behind his back. "Afternoon, sir," Luke added non-chalantly, "And you are?"

"Oh, forgive me." He gave a half bow, pressing one hand to his breast. "My name is August Zachariah. I'm a doctor."

Luke raked his mind for the name, but couldn't come up with anything, which was rather odd. Luke had always prided himself in knowing the big names in the political world. "Hm. I don't believe I've heard of you."

Luke was hoping the man would reveal some pseudonym he used in the medical field but August simply laugh lightly. "I don't treat much of your kind, unfortunately."

Luke made a face at the comment. So the man was middle class then. Or human, which was already pretty obvious. Possibly human middle class. It already felt taboo talking to this man. But then again, the man smelled very strongly of magic which was only traditional of myrs or magicked weapons, but seeing how August didn't carry any kind of weapon on him, only the former seemed feasible. Even if the smell was only coming from his head. Luke wondered whether August were wearing some kind of magicked hair ornament only to realize nothing was attached to the man's head and he certainly wouldn't enjoy wearing a woman's jewelry.

"But please, Lord Adele, let's not talk about me. I'm far more interested in hearing about you. You are an airship engineer, yes?"

"If the steward doesn't lie, I do believe I am." Luke was already scanning the crowd for any potential persons who could possibly call him away. "What interest does a doctor have with airships anyway?"

"It's simply a fascination of mine, my lord. They are, after all, becoming more of a commodity throughout Gaea. Your work, especially--"

"My work?"

"Yes, creation of the airships! You did create them didn't you?"

Now it took just about everything in him to keep smiling. How he wanted to just say yes! The statement would've been true too if he had just submitted the model earlier rather than be concerned about the scientific circles to laugh at his work. "I'm sorry, friend. You're thinking about someone else. Viviane Heravera was the creator of airships."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. You haven't heard of her?"

"No, I haven't."

Luke sniffed, looking away. "Fascination of yours, indeed." August didn't look nearly as surprised as he sounded. Luke could only take it that the man was mocking him.

"Your name, however..."

"I do believe some random noble in some general direction is calling me and I must be off to attend to their every whim." Luke gave a quick half bow. "Good day to you."

"My lord, it seems as if you think I've done you some wrong."

"No, you mistake me, Sir Zachariah. There really is some random noble in need of me. Can't you hear them? They're whooping loudly and demanding why the deuce I haven't come yet."

August cocked his head, looking away. "Well, I was hoping to ask for your cooperation in a project of mine."

"I'll add you in queue. Sir Unnamed over there needs me first." Luke turned around on his heels, masking his irritation with a swift push of his glasses against the bridge of his nose.

August gave Luke a sideways glance been letting out a great sigh. "I suppose I'll just ask someone else. What was her name? Heravera?"

Luke stopped, glancing over his shoulder.

"I certainly don't need the publicity that'll come with someone as famous as Heravera, but I suppose I can't help it. It's bound to become phenomenal anyway."

Luke turned around, crossing his arms. "Just to have you know, Lady Heravera is away with the royal entourage. What are you thinking of anyway?"

"I'm sure I could catch her after the ceremony. I need someone of her caliber anyway."

Luke spent a moment of silence contemplating exactly how much of this was planned before giving in to the fact that he wouldn't let another project be wasted on Heravera. "It would be rude of me to leave you so soon, Sir Zachariah. I might as well hear what it is you're proposing."

August was grinning, his smile seemingly accomplished much to Luke's ire. "What about Sir Unnamed of Some General Direction?"

"All the more reason for you to be out with it."