Seeing Ghosts

Ilaria tilted her head, gaze sharpening as Caesennia expressed her partiality. She filed that information away, wondering about modern Tevinter and things she might have missed. In Ilaria’s youth, attitudes had been somewhat … Different. One might love who they loved in private – but a society bent on breeding better and better mages tended to frown on childless unions. Even those between men and women, to a certain extent. After a few years.

“Fascinating.” Societal expectations hadn’t entirely spared her over the centuries, either. Of course, those few husbands she’d been forced to take had all met untimely deaths – and without siring a single heir for their own family lines, no less. Ilaria had scooped up their fortunes and assets with embittered glee, a mere drop in the dragon’s hoard.

“Well, pet, do not let the Eyes hear you. They may take away your name and stipend if it were to become known that you don’t want to birth healthy mage babies for the Imperium.” How dare this laetan nobody think to escape the indignities of marriage to a man. What else did she think her recent elevation was for? Oh, but now she was certainly being too unkind.

So instead of stinging Caesennia for that out of place question, Ilaria merely nodded ascent. She stood smoothly, offering her arm.

“Very well. The weather is very agreeable tonight; I will join you.”