Only Ears for Dropping Eaves

Tiberius just about managed to hide a mild facial twitch of confusion. She was trying to be shocking, clearly. Fair play, and one he wasn’t above using himself to discourage questions and conversation that he was disinclined to entertain. Especially with the opposite sex. It usually worked – though not on the creature walking around in Cecilia Bellefleur’s skin.

“I’m sorry dear, but no, that one hasn’t made it all the way to Orlais yet. Or I’ve been talking to entirely the wrong people.” He perused the food on offer, relieved to see House Tilani wasn’t attempting to offend him by serving him flesh. That would have boded ill. Tiberius selected a dainty cucumber sandwich and studied Novella’s face.

No one liked to have their private business spread about town, no matter how nonchalant their manner. Unless this was another misdirection? He’d had to speak to some of the ne'er-do-wells on his family’s payroll, find out if this two year old gossip was anything other than a lewd conjuring to set him running. Clutching pearls the whole way home, no doubt.

“Felicitations on your love match, no less. Though … I think I’d like to see this museum. Was the art that inspiring – or that dull?” He ate the little sandwich in two bites, cleaning his fingers on a napkin. “Perhaps my fiancée would enjoy a visit. If we were to decide an elopement is preferable.”