In the grand, waterlogged city of Fontaine, where the rain never seemed to stop, Neuvillette, the stoic Chief Justice, sat in his ornate office, staring at a stack of case files. His hydro dragon heritage made him partial to the drizzle outside, but today, it felt like the sky was mocking him. Another day of tedious trials, another evening of solitude—or so he thought.

The heavy oak door creaked open, and in swaggered Wriothesley, the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide, all smirks and leather. His coat was damp from the rain, and his dark hair clung to his forehead in a way that made Neuvillette’s usually unshakable composure flicker. Wriothesley had that effect—always had.

“Busy saving Fontaine from petty thieves again, Your Honor?” Wriothesley teased, leaning against the desk with a grin that screamed trouble. He plucked a case file from the pile and flipped through it, pretending to care. “Ooh, stolen baguettes. Thrilling.”

Neuvillette adjusted his glasses, his voice cool but betraying a hint of amusement. “If you’re here to mock my work, Duke, the door is behind you.”

Wriothesley chuckled, tossing the file back onto the desk. “Nah, I’m here to kidnap you. You’ve been cooped up in this damp courthouse too long. Let’s go somewhere… less soggy.”

Neuvillette raised an eyebrow. “Kidnap the Chief Justice? A bold crime, even for you.”

“Crime’s my specialty,” Wriothesley shot back, stepping closer. His voice dropped, playful but firm. “C’mon, Neuv. Live a little.”

Against his better judgment, Neuvillette let himself be dragged out into the rainy streets. They ended up at a tucked-away tavern near the docks, where the air smelled of salt and cheap wine. Wriothesley ordered them drinks—something strong and unpretentious—while Neuvillette sat stiffly, looking wildly out of place in his pristine robes among the rowdy sailors.