“Err. No. What has dancing got to do with magic?” Esme blinked at him, visibly trying to work out if she’d committed some kind of terrible faux pas. They had spoken about Byrne’s past life as a Circle mage only as often as they discussed her own dubious past – which was not at all, typically. She knew he’d been in Kirkwall, and that Kirkwall had been one of the worst before the Circles fell.
What worst really meant, she was afraid to ask – a fact she found extremely frustrating and most out of character. Who was this man really, to make her worry about the unseen knives in her words? But he offered her his hand before she had finished finding reasons to regret her boldness.
Caro hadn’t been cut, though. He only seemed a little amused, which was about the best you could hope for when it came to Caro.
“Miss Dunnik, huh? Okay.” Esme allowed him to lead her away from the table with a little laugh. He was right. She should have thought of a fake name to give out. Though the royal birthday had opened the castle to all comers, this was the one place in Thedas where she might get recognized as Esme Lachance. A cover would hardly stop that entirely, but it might prevent a second glance.
Tentatively, Esme put her left hand on his right bicep and fell into step with Caro. Her face was still in concentration, brows slightly pinched down as she tried to recall ancient dancing lessons and also avoid slipping at the same time. The marble was slick under the textured metal of her prosthesis but their joined hands offered some support. By the end of the first song, she trusted him enough to keep them from rudely treading on the feet of other dancers, at least. She remembered enough of her old skill to think about other things.
Esme had scarcely ever been both this close to Byrne and seen him awake enough to watch her back. It was strange. The light in here glinted auburn off his dark hair and she wanted very badly to touch it. As the second song trailed off to nothing and she took a half step back, gaze lingering a moment before shifting to the side, a wry smile coming to her lips.
“Do we care about Miss Dunnik’s reputation? A third dance might as well be a declaration of intent, even among the dog lords.”
What worst really meant, she was afraid to ask – a fact she found extremely frustrating and most out of character. Who was this man really, to make her worry about the unseen knives in her words? But he offered her his hand before she had finished finding reasons to regret her boldness.
Caro hadn’t been cut, though. He only seemed a little amused, which was about the best you could hope for when it came to Caro.
“Miss Dunnik, huh? Okay.” Esme allowed him to lead her away from the table with a little laugh. He was right. She should have thought of a fake name to give out. Though the royal birthday had opened the castle to all comers, this was the one place in Thedas where she might get recognized as Esme Lachance. A cover would hardly stop that entirely, but it might prevent a second glance.
Tentatively, Esme put her left hand on his right bicep and fell into step with Caro. Her face was still in concentration, brows slightly pinched down as she tried to recall ancient dancing lessons and also avoid slipping at the same time. The marble was slick under the textured metal of her prosthesis but their joined hands offered some support. By the end of the first song, she trusted him enough to keep them from rudely treading on the feet of other dancers, at least. She remembered enough of her old skill to think about other things.
Esme had scarcely ever been both this close to Byrne and seen him awake enough to watch her back. It was strange. The light in here glinted auburn off his dark hair and she wanted very badly to touch it. As the second song trailed off to nothing and she took a half step back, gaze lingering a moment before shifting to the side, a wry smile coming to her lips.
“Do we care about Miss Dunnik’s reputation? A third dance might as well be a declaration of intent, even among the dog lords.”
02-07-2025, 05:17 PM
