mickume/dnd_drow · Datasets at Hugging Face

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"What a foolish mistake you made, then."
"Quite foolish indeed."
As Astarion brought his lips to hers, he eyed the mirror once more. From his peripherals he saw a raven-haired elf, sitting up in a velvet chair, tilting her head forwards. He held her face in his hands and closed his eyes, as he kissed her again and again. As long as she could see him and he could see her, that was all he wanted.
Aethelle and Astarion walked down the stairs, Aethelle listening to the sending stone in her hand. The sorceress was now in her proper adventuring garb like the others, wearing a mage's tunic and cloth pants with high boots. Gale and Shadowheart were standing in the ballroom, Gale explaining to her how noble ranking worked, while pointing at a book he had found on the subject in Aethelle's library. For once, Shadowheart listened attentively, wanting to understand the life her friend lived.
The sorceress cast the sending spell on the stone. "Good work, stand by. Unfinished business here. Talk to you soon." Putting the stone back in her pocket, the two elves walked up to their companions.
"Well, good news at least. Wyll said they were able to find the rest of the murder targets and confirm they're all safe. Although apparently he ran into quite a few rats along the way," reported Aethelle.
The three adventurers looked at her inquisitively. She shrugged. "Hard to tell a story like that in twenty-five words or less. I supposed we'll find out sooner or later."
"Hopefully the others can take a bit of a respite while we handle things here," replied Shadowheart.
"I wholeheartedly agree. It has been rather unrelenting since we arrived in the city. We still have much to accomplish, but we all need to rest and rejuvenate at some point," said Gale.
"Why can't any of our adventures end up being at a spa or something?" groaned Astarion.
They were interrupted by several loud knocks at the door.
"Aethelle! Aethelflaed!" yelled the paladin from the other side. Aethelle quickly said her incantation to remove the arcane lock from the door. Ryn unlocked the knob with his key before bursting in, panting heavily.
"Gods, what happened, Ryn?" Aethelle asked, running over to him.
"Aethelle... they saw... they saw you," the paladin said between breaths.
"Who saw her?" Shadowheart asked alarmingly.
"No. It can't be," Aethelle's eyes went wide as she peered out the door.
The cleric, wizard, and rogue, their weapons now drawn, prepared for a fight.
"They must... have seen you yesterday," Ryn continued. "They're lined up down the block."
Aethelle fell to her knees, head in her hands.
Ryn looked at Aethelle's companions, the three of them very confused despite being ready for battle. "The suitors are here. Once Aethelle disappeared, they stopped coming around, because we thought she was dead. But obviously she is not dead, which means she is very much still available to be wedded."
"Strike me down, here and now. Then I'll be free of the suitors and the tadpole," begged Aethelle.
"Gods, and you say I'm the dramatic one," Ryn picked her up off the ground. "You're probably going to have to promenade if you want them to leave."
Aethelle let out a long groan. "Fine, so be it. You should probably put on something other than chainmail, though."
"Oh no, no, no, no!" Ryn wagged a finger in her face. "You know as well as I do, the last several times we've gone out together, that the socialites have begun to not believe our act anymore."
"The mutual benefits of having another noble friend, I presume," Gale chimed in. "Let me guess. You've both gone this long without being wedded, because you keep scaring off any potential partners that approach the other."
"Precisely. However, it's been long enough now with no proposal from either of us, that the last few months our act hasn't quite worked anymore. We might discourage a few of the suitors now, if we're lucky," affirmed Ryn.
"I can't bloody promenade alone! Then they'll really come in flocks," muttered Aethelle.
"Take Astarion with you. He looks plenty of nobility. Just say he's visiting from Neverwinter or something. The way you two look at each other, you might put an end to the suitors for good," Ryn said casually.
"Firstly, yes, I do look quite posh, thank you." Astarion ran a hand through his curls. "Secondly, I would like to know what this "promenade" exactly entails. If I need to scare a few people, I am more than happy to do so," said the vampire, baring his fangs.
"It's a fancy word some arsehole noble came up with for walking through the park," snorted Aethelle. "But it’s more for crafting a desirable narrative for yourself. If you go with someone you're romantically linked to, then people know you might not be on the market anymore for long," explained the sorceress.
"I could do for some sun," the vampire smiled.
"I haven't asked yet, but I'm assuming you're some kind of magic vampire, and that's why you can walk around in daylight," Ryn said quizzically.
"If you drive a stake through his chest, he won't die, either. Try it," Shadowheart said goadingly.
Gale, Astarion, and Aethelle panicked and stopped Ryn as he stepped forward, his stance indicative of an impending strike.
"How about this," began Gale, "Shadowheart and I will catch Ryn up on the important points of our adventuring thus far, while you two are out and about. Then we won't have any accidental deaths on our hands, hmm?"
Astarion and Aethelle sat in the carriage as it drifted down the street. Astarion, out of his usual padded leather armor, was now wearing a black velvet tailcoat adorned with equally black buttons. The silk vest underneath was a deep crimson red with golden brocade. Tucked into his vest was the cravat around his neck, made from an ivory silk. Black slacks and loafers completed his attire, and he looked quite the part of any of the Upper City nobility.
Aethelle, unfortunately for her, was again in a corset. The wine colored dress was silk with golden embroidery adorning the outline of the corset. The long sleeves of the dress, also decorated with golden brocade, began where the bust of the corset did, leaving her shoulders and chest bare. A golden chain decorated her neck, and at the end of a chain was a ruby that rested between her collarbones. Her dark hair was intricately braided into a neat bun. A golden tiara with smaller rubies sat atop her head, matching her ruby earrings. Now that she was home and had access to her full bottle of perfume again, amber and vanilla notes rested on her skin.
"My love," began Astarion in a raspy voice, "perhaps we should close the curtains." He had not taken his eyes off his lover since they left her estate. It appeared that the feeling was mutual, because the sorceress had been hungrily taking in his appearance as well.
"Yes," Aethelle exhaled. "Perhaps we should."
They stared at each other a moment longer before frantically drawing the curtains of the carriage's windows. Within seconds, Aethelle hiked up the skirt's fabric and quickly straddled Astarion. Their lips smashed together, their tongues pressed against each other. His hands ran up Aethelle's now exposed stockings, while hers fiddled with the button on his trousers.
Suddenly, the carriage came to a halt.
As fast as they had started their romp, Aethelle returned to her seat and threw the skirts back over her ankles. She adjusted the corset and her breasts, and quickly patted any loose hairs back into place. Astarion buttoned the trousers once more, before quickly smoothing his vest and coat. Aethelle reached up to adjust a silver curl of his back into place. Just as she brought her hand away, the carriage driver opened the door.
Astarion looked up and down at the sorceress once more, allowing himself one more greedy view of her. She sighed in her frustration, wanting to indulge his crimson eyes much more than what they had been allowed. He exited the carriage and offered the lady a hand, and she elegantly stepped down onto the cobblestone street.
The streets were bustling of beautiful horses pulling fabulously adorned carriages, as well as nobility in equally adorned dresses and coats. At the entrance of the park, a grand arch of marble and gold stood. Other patrons began to walk into the park, and as they saw the Lady Veluthezara with the handsome noble at her side, they immediately starting whispering to each other. Eyes watched their every move.
"Oh gods, already?" Aethelle sighed. "Oh well. At least I don't have to pretend to love you," she smiled up at him, her eyelashes fluttering.
Astarion smiled back and offered her his arm. She placed her hand into the crook of his elbow, and he flexed his arm for a moment, gently squeezing her.
"You know, this seems a much more pleasant battle than being knee-deep in illithid brine," remarked Astarion as they walked through the grand arch.
"Unfortunately, there will be a supreme lack of bloodshed."
"My dear, we could change that."
"We could. However, I'm relying on our second-best skill, which is our ability to talk." They were not more than a few paces into the park when Aethelle noticed a few suitors, straightening their coats, begin to walk in her direction. However, at the very sight of the rogue on her arm, they immediately turned around.
"Well, I'll be," the sorceress smirked. "Perhaps I should have brought you sooner."
"Darling, do you really abhor this that much? I rather like being able to walk with all this attention." Astarion grinned as he held himself a little higher than before.
"It's only terrible when you get the attention of those who aren't worth a first look," laughed Aethelle.
"Oh, fair enough," he replied. As they continued down the gravel path, Astarion took in the beauty of the park. Hedges were expertly cut into distinct shapes, some even formed to look like animals. The ornate benches and streetlamps throughout reflected a beautifully bright silver. A crystalline blue pond sat in the distance, with a pristine white stone bridge spanning across it. He looked at the water shimmering in the sunlight and the gentle waves lapping in the breeze, before looking back down at his lover, her face glittering from her golden jewelry. He shut his eyes for a brief moment, committing everything he had seen to memory. Eventually, they would dispose of their tadpoles, and he would be confined to the dark once more. This was the one sight he could not bear to forget, as it was the one he may not ever have the chance to relive.
"Thank you," the sorceress said quietly.
"For what, darling?"
"For being here." Aethelle was breathing easily. Any anxiety she previously harbored had washed away. Suddenly, it was truly just as simple as walking in the park with the person she loved.
"My my, what a sight to behold," a voice rang out from behind them. The two lovers turned around.
"Marquess Vyrna, good day to you," Aethelle pushed through her surprise to curtsy to the tiefling of higher rank. The Marquess's silver horns atop her head accentuated her platinum hair. The silver dress and jewelry she wore complimented her periwinkle skin. At the center of her necklace lay a bird silhouetted against a cloud. Her lavender eyes permeated the rogue and the sorceress.
"Lady Veluthezara, I see you are very much alive and well, contrary to public opinion," said the Marquess.
"Indeed, I am. Thank you for your concern," replied Aethelle.
"Who is this, that you've seemingly brought back with you from the dead?" The Marquess eyed the vampire up and down.
"Lord Ancunín of Neverwinter, milady." Astarion bowed to the Marquess. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."
"It is well known within the Upper that the grand Lady of House Veluthezara has no patience for men," the Marquess said slyly, turning back to Aethelle. "However, for once, you actually seem to walk earnestly through this park. Has the Lady finally found a dashing suitor, I wonder?"
"I suppose I have," Aethelle replied, her cheeks faintly flushed.
"I'll be damned," the Marquess grinned. "Do not stay away for too long, my dear. Please come visit when you are able. I imagine you were not absent for this long without some business to attend to."
Aethelle's eyes widened. "I will, Marquess Vyrna, that I promise you."
"Bring your Lord along with you, as well. I am quite curious to know how he finally pierced that icy heart of yours." The Marquess walked away regally, venturing further into the park.
Aethelle breathed out. "Ryn will certainly like to hear of this."
"Who was that?" Astarion asked, the two continuing their pace down the gravel path.
"Marquess Vyrna. One of the highest ranking of all the Baldurian patriars. She's a dowager, but her favorite pastime is keeping the tabs on the Upper City marriage market like a hawk." The stares at the two lovers now only intensified, many of the nobles realizing they had been approached by the great Marquess herself. "It is an unspoken rule that you do not speak to the Marquess, the Marquess speaks to you."
"She seemed familiar with you. Have you spoken often?" asked Astarion.
"We have. Despite her steely demeanor, she can actually be quite kind. To me, at least. She can be quite the savage to other socialites." Aethelle smiled and nodded at another couple passing by. "She has never remarked upon my romantic affairs quite so... favorably. Or publicly, for that matter."
"Once, at one of her grand balls, she admonished me quite harshly in a private room for once again going with Ryn, and once again sneering at every man who walked past," she chuckled.
"Could she blame you?" Astarion wrinkled his nose. "Some of these men, despite being nobles, seem most undesirable."
"It was a bit different, actually. She had told me to stop wasting my time, and get on with my life already." The two stopped at the beginning of the bridge overlooking the pond. The sorceress looked up at the rogue. "I was younger then. It was during a time that I was... quite besides myself. Her speech certainly worked, though. That’s when I started adventuring out of the Upper City more."
Astarion looked at the sorceress empathetically. He brought his hand over to hers in the crook of his elbow, and gave her a gentle squeeze.
"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing towards the bridge.
The two walked along, listening to the water of the pond splash the bridge from underneath. Swans swam gracefully over the water. The two stopped for a moment to look over the railing together, watching the birds play.
"Perhaps I would have enjoyed my station more, if I had your company to bear it with from the start," Aethelle said quietly, eyes transfixed on the water.
"I’m here now, my love," Astarion replied. "You will always have my company henceforth."
The sorceress smiled. "I would kiss you, here and now, but in the midst of the patriars, it unfortunately would cause quite the scandal."
"If that is supposed to deter me, you’re quite mistaken," he laughed.
"Astarion," she turned to him, her brow furrowed. "I’ve been meaning to ask you something." Her tone was suddenly serious.
"Yes, my love? What is it?" He looked at her worriedly.
"I... I was wondering," her breath hitched, and she looked away from him. Her face was faintly rose. "I was wondering if you would like to live with me in my home, once this little adventure of ours is over." She peered up at him from behind her eyelashes.
"Aethelle, I would love nothing more, than to live out the rest of my days with you." Astarion smiled wide, his eyes sincere.
"Thank goodness," the sorceress laughed with relief. "Here I thought I was going to have to grovel."
"Darling, I’d never make you beg for something so genuine, but if you are so inclined, there are other things we can discuss later," his voice replied huskily.
"Oh Astarion," she murmured. "Do behave until we get home."
"If you are concerned with the high society, my love," Astarion paused to catch his breath. "And we are to live together, then we should also discuss the prospects of my proposal."
"What?" Aethelle felt her heart flutter.
A low, venomous voice suddenly spoke from behind the two lovers. "How taken you are, my dear Aethelflaed. Has your supposed death finally brought you reprieve? If so, I am ashamed to have missed it."
The skin on the back of Aethelle’s neck began to crawl. Astarion recognized him immediately; only his acute senses would have noticed the stench of death masked behind the scent of anise.
The elf was clad in an emerald green tailcoat over a vest of black and silver brocade. The black cravat matched his black, shoulder-length hair. His eyes, the palest blue, were almost grey in the light. A wicked smirk on his face, he was clearly pleased to catch the sorceress unprepared.
"If you expect me to curtsy, Lord Zantharen, you will find yourself quite disappointed," she retorted, without giving him so much as a glance.
"It would not be the first time you would have disappointed me, Aeth."
Aethelle whipped around sharply. "Do not Aeth me, Viscount."
"Must you use my honorifics alone? Am I no longer your Torriel?" Each word he spoke weighed even more heavily in the air.
"Watch yourself, my Lord," her words oozed disgust.

"What a foolish mistake you made, then."

"Quite foolish indeed."

As Astarion brought his lips to hers, he eyed the mirror once more. From his peripherals he saw a raven-haired elf, sitting up in a velvet chair, tilting her head forwards. He held her face in his hands and closed his eyes, as he kissed her again and again. As long as she could see him and he could see her, that was all he wanted.

Aethelle and Astarion walked down the stairs, Aethelle listening to the sending stone in her hand. The sorceress was now in her proper adventuring garb like the others, wearing a mage's tunic and cloth pants with high boots. Gale and Shadowheart were standing in the ballroom, Gale explaining to her how noble ranking worked, while pointing at a book he had found on the subject in Aethelle's library. For once, Shadowheart listened attentively, wanting to understand the life her friend lived.

The sorceress cast the sending spell on the stone. "Good work, stand by. Unfinished business here. Talk to you soon." Putting the stone back in her pocket, the two elves walked up to their companions.

"Well, good news at least. Wyll said they were able to find the rest of the murder targets and confirm they're all safe. Although apparently he ran into quite a few rats along the way," reported Aethelle.

The three adventurers looked at her inquisitively. She shrugged. "Hard to tell a story like that in twenty-five words or less. I supposed we'll find out sooner or later."

"Hopefully the others can take a bit of a respite while we handle things here," replied Shadowheart.

"I wholeheartedly agree. It has been rather unrelenting since we arrived in the city. We still have much to accomplish, but we all need to rest and rejuvenate at some point," said Gale.

"Why can't any of our adventures end up being at a spa or something?" groaned Astarion.

They were interrupted by several loud knocks at the door.

"Aethelle! Aethelflaed!" yelled the paladin from the other side. Aethelle quickly said her incantation to remove the arcane lock from the door. Ryn unlocked the knob with his key before bursting in, panting heavily.

"Gods, what happened, Ryn?" Aethelle asked, running over to him.

"Aethelle... they saw... they saw you," the paladin said between breaths.

"Who saw her?" Shadowheart asked alarmingly.

"No. It can't be," Aethelle's eyes went wide as she peered out the door.

The cleric, wizard, and rogue, their weapons now drawn, prepared for a fight.

"They must... have seen you yesterday," Ryn continued. "They're lined up down the block."

Aethelle fell to her knees, head in her hands.

Ryn looked at Aethelle's companions, the three of them very confused despite being ready for battle. "The suitors are here. Once Aethelle disappeared, they stopped coming around, because we thought she was dead. But obviously she is not dead, which means she is very much still available to be wedded."

"Strike me down, here and now. Then I'll be free of the suitors and the tadpole," begged Aethelle.

"Gods, and you say I'm the dramatic one," Ryn picked her up off the ground. "You're probably going to have to promenade if you want them to leave."

Aethelle let out a long groan. "Fine, so be it. You should probably put on something other than chainmail, though."

"Oh no, no, no, no!" Ryn wagged a finger in her face. "You know as well as I do, the last several times we've gone out together, that the socialites have begun to not believe our act anymore."

"The mutual benefits of having another noble friend, I presume," Gale chimed in. "Let me guess. You've both gone this long without being wedded, because you keep scaring off any potential partners that approach the other."

"Precisely. However, it's been long enough now with no proposal from either of us, that the last few months our act hasn't quite worked anymore. We might discourage a few of the suitors now, if we're lucky," affirmed Ryn.

"I can't bloody promenade alone! Then they'll really come in flocks," muttered Aethelle.

"Take Astarion with you. He looks plenty of nobility. Just say he's visiting from Neverwinter or something. The way you two look at each other, you might put an end to the suitors for good," Ryn said casually.

"Firstly, yes, I do look quite posh, thank you." Astarion ran a hand through his curls. "Secondly, I would like to know what this "promenade" exactly entails. If I need to scare a few people, I am more than happy to do so," said the vampire, baring his fangs.

"It's a fancy word some arsehole noble came up with for walking through the park," snorted Aethelle. "But it’s more for crafting a desirable narrative for yourself. If you go with someone you're romantically linked to, then people know you might not be on the market anymore for long," explained the sorceress.

"I could do for some sun," the vampire smiled.

"I haven't asked yet, but I'm assuming you're some kind of magic vampire, and that's why you can walk around in daylight," Ryn said quizzically.

"If you drive a stake through his chest, he won't die, either. Try it," Shadowheart said goadingly.

Gale, Astarion, and Aethelle panicked and stopped Ryn as he stepped forward, his stance indicative of an impending strike.

"How about this," began Gale, "Shadowheart and I will catch Ryn up on the important points of our adventuring thus far, while you two are out and about. Then we won't have any accidental deaths on our hands, hmm?"

Astarion and Aethelle sat in the carriage as it drifted down the street. Astarion, out of his usual padded leather armor, was now wearing a black velvet tailcoat adorned with equally black buttons. The silk vest underneath was a deep crimson red with golden brocade. Tucked into his vest was the cravat around his neck, made from an ivory silk. Black slacks and loafers completed his attire, and he looked quite the part of any of the Upper City nobility.

Aethelle, unfortunately for her, was again in a corset. The wine colored dress was silk with golden embroidery adorning the outline of the corset. The long sleeves of the dress, also decorated with golden brocade, began where the bust of the corset did, leaving her shoulders and chest bare. A golden chain decorated her neck, and at the end of a chain was a ruby that rested between her collarbones. Her dark hair was intricately braided into a neat bun. A golden tiara with smaller rubies sat atop her head, matching her ruby earrings. Now that she was home and had access to her full bottle of perfume again, amber and vanilla notes rested on her skin.

"My love," began Astarion in a raspy voice, "perhaps we should close the curtains." He had not taken his eyes off his lover since they left her estate. It appeared that the feeling was mutual, because the sorceress had been hungrily taking in his appearance as well.

"Yes," Aethelle exhaled. "Perhaps we should."

They stared at each other a moment longer before frantically drawing the curtains of the carriage's windows. Within seconds, Aethelle hiked up the skirt's fabric and quickly straddled Astarion. Their lips smashed together, their tongues pressed against each other. His hands ran up Aethelle's now exposed stockings, while hers fiddled with the button on his trousers.

Suddenly, the carriage came to a halt.

As fast as they had started their romp, Aethelle returned to her seat and threw the skirts back over her ankles. She adjusted the corset and her breasts, and quickly patted any loose hairs back into place. Astarion buttoned the trousers once more, before quickly smoothing his vest and coat. Aethelle reached up to adjust a silver curl of his back into place. Just as she brought her hand away, the carriage driver opened the door.

Astarion looked up and down at the sorceress once more, allowing himself one more greedy view of her. She sighed in her frustration, wanting to indulge his crimson eyes much more than what they had been allowed. He exited the carriage and offered the lady a hand, and she elegantly stepped down onto the cobblestone street.

The streets were bustling of beautiful horses pulling fabulously adorned carriages, as well as nobility in equally adorned dresses and coats. At the entrance of the park, a grand arch of marble and gold stood. Other patrons began to walk into the park, and as they saw the Lady Veluthezara with the handsome noble at her side, they immediately starting whispering to each other. Eyes watched their every move.

"Oh gods, already?" Aethelle sighed. "Oh well. At least I don't have to pretend to love you," she smiled up at him, her eyelashes fluttering.

Astarion smiled back and offered her his arm. She placed her hand into the crook of his elbow, and he flexed his arm for a moment, gently squeezing her.

"You know, this seems a much more pleasant battle than being knee-deep in illithid brine," remarked Astarion as they walked through the grand arch.

"Unfortunately, there will be a supreme lack of bloodshed."

"My dear, we could change that."

"We could. However, I'm relying on our second-best skill, which is our ability to talk." They were not more than a few paces into the park when Aethelle noticed a few suitors, straightening their coats, begin to walk in her direction. However, at the very sight of the rogue on her arm, they immediately turned around.

"Well, I'll be," the sorceress smirked. "Perhaps I should have brought you sooner."

"Darling, do you really abhor this that much? I rather like being able to walk with all this attention." Astarion grinned as he held himself a little higher than before.

"It's only terrible when you get the attention of those who aren't worth a first look," laughed Aethelle.

"Oh, fair enough," he replied. As they continued down the gravel path, Astarion took in the beauty of the park. Hedges were expertly cut into distinct shapes, some even formed to look like animals. The ornate benches and streetlamps throughout reflected a beautifully bright silver. A crystalline blue pond sat in the distance, with a pristine white stone bridge spanning across it. He looked at the water shimmering in the sunlight and the gentle waves lapping in the breeze, before looking back down at his lover, her face glittering from her golden jewelry. He shut his eyes for a brief moment, committing everything he had seen to memory. Eventually, they would dispose of their tadpoles, and he would be confined to the dark once more. This was the one sight he could not bear to forget, as it was the one he may not ever have the chance to relive.

"Thank you," the sorceress said quietly.

"For what, darling?"

"For being here." Aethelle was breathing easily. Any anxiety she previously harbored had washed away. Suddenly, it was truly just as simple as walking in the park with the person she loved.

"My my, what a sight to behold," a voice rang out from behind them. The two lovers turned around.

"Marquess Vyrna, good day to you," Aethelle pushed through her surprise to curtsy to the tiefling of higher rank. The Marquess's silver horns atop her head accentuated her platinum hair. The silver dress and jewelry she wore complimented her periwinkle skin. At the center of her necklace lay a bird silhouetted against a cloud. Her lavender eyes permeated the rogue and the sorceress.

"Lady Veluthezara, I see you are very much alive and well, contrary to public opinion," said the Marquess.

"Indeed, I am. Thank you for your concern," replied Aethelle.

"Who is this, that you've seemingly brought back with you from the dead?" The Marquess eyed the vampire up and down.

"Lord Ancunín of Neverwinter, milady." Astarion bowed to the Marquess. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"It is well known within the Upper that the grand Lady of House Veluthezara has no patience for men," the Marquess said slyly, turning back to Aethelle. "However, for once, you actually seem to walk earnestly through this park. Has the Lady finally found a dashing suitor, I wonder?"

"I suppose I have," Aethelle replied, her cheeks faintly flushed.

"I'll be damned," the Marquess grinned. "Do not stay away for too long, my dear. Please come visit when you are able. I imagine you were not absent for this long without some business to attend to."

Aethelle's eyes widened. "I will, Marquess Vyrna, that I promise you."

"Bring your Lord along with you, as well. I am quite curious to know how he finally pierced that icy heart of yours." The Marquess walked away regally, venturing further into the park.

Aethelle breathed out. "Ryn will certainly like to hear of this."

"Who was that?" Astarion asked, the two continuing their pace down the gravel path.

"Marquess Vyrna. One of the highest ranking of all the Baldurian patriars. She's a dowager, but her favorite pastime is keeping the tabs on the Upper City marriage market like a hawk." The stares at the two lovers now only intensified, many of the nobles realizing they had been approached by the great Marquess herself. "It is an unspoken rule that you do not speak to the Marquess, the Marquess speaks to you."

"She seemed familiar with you. Have you spoken often?" asked Astarion.

"We have. Despite her steely demeanor, she can actually be quite kind. To me, at least. She can be quite the savage to other socialites." Aethelle smiled and nodded at another couple passing by. "She has never remarked upon my romantic affairs quite so... favorably. Or publicly, for that matter."

"Once, at one of her grand balls, she admonished me quite harshly in a private room for once again going with Ryn, and once again sneering at every man who walked past," she chuckled.

"Could she blame you?" Astarion wrinkled his nose. "Some of these men, despite being nobles, seem most undesirable."

"It was a bit different, actually. She had told me to stop wasting my time, and get on with my life already." The two stopped at the beginning of the bridge overlooking the pond. The sorceress looked up at the rogue. "I was younger then. It was during a time that I was... quite besides myself. Her speech certainly worked, though. That’s when I started adventuring out of the Upper City more."

Astarion looked at the sorceress empathetically. He brought his hand over to hers in the crook of his elbow, and gave her a gentle squeeze.

"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing towards the bridge.

The two walked along, listening to the water of the pond splash the bridge from underneath. Swans swam gracefully over the water. The two stopped for a moment to look over the railing together, watching the birds play.

"Perhaps I would have enjoyed my station more, if I had your company to bear it with from the start," Aethelle said quietly, eyes transfixed on the water.

"I’m here now, my love," Astarion replied. "You will always have my company henceforth."

The sorceress smiled. "I would kiss you, here and now, but in the midst of the patriars, it unfortunately would cause quite the scandal."

"If that is supposed to deter me, you’re quite mistaken," he laughed.

"Astarion," she turned to him, her brow furrowed. "I’ve been meaning to ask you something." Her tone was suddenly serious.

"Yes, my love? What is it?" He looked at her worriedly.

"I... I was wondering," her breath hitched, and she looked away from him. Her face was faintly rose. "I was wondering if you would like to live with me in my home, once this little adventure of ours is over." She peered up at him from behind her eyelashes.

"Aethelle, I would love nothing more, than to live out the rest of my days with you." Astarion smiled wide, his eyes sincere.

"Thank goodness," the sorceress laughed with relief. "Here I thought I was going to have to grovel."

"Darling, I’d never make you beg for something so genuine, but if you are so inclined, there are other things we can discuss later," his voice replied huskily.

"Oh Astarion," she murmured. "Do behave until we get home."

"If you are concerned with the high society, my love," Astarion paused to catch his breath. "And we are to live together, then we should also discuss the prospects of my proposal."

"What?" Aethelle felt her heart flutter.

A low, venomous voice suddenly spoke from behind the two lovers. "How taken you are, my dear Aethelflaed. Has your supposed death finally brought you reprieve? If so, I am ashamed to have missed it."

The skin on the back of Aethelle’s neck began to crawl. Astarion recognized him immediately; only his acute senses would have noticed the stench of death masked behind the scent of anise.

The elf was clad in an emerald green tailcoat over a vest of black and silver brocade. The black cravat matched his black, shoulder-length hair. His eyes, the palest blue, were almost grey in the light. A wicked smirk on his face, he was clearly pleased to catch the sorceress unprepared.

"If you expect me to curtsy, Lord Zantharen, you will find yourself quite disappointed," she retorted, without giving him so much as a glance.

"It would not be the first time you would have disappointed me, Aeth."

Aethelle whipped around sharply. "Do not Aeth me, Viscount."

"Must you use my honorifics alone? Am I no longer your Torriel?" Each word he spoke weighed even more heavily in the air.

"Watch yourself, my Lord," her words oozed disgust.