It was a slow evening, simmering away like a thousand others before it. Quintilian watched the floor from the second floor balcony, eye catching in a crimson waistcoat and trousers. There had been a jacket at some point, abandoned due to the heat of an early summer night.
Ideally, this was how every night should go. Efficient. The tidy extraction of wealth beneath a gauzy sheen of pleasure, flowing into neat categories in his mind. Operating costs, a tithe to the literal Eyes so that they didn’t find a reason to shut this place down. A goodly portion to House Pavus for the power of that diminished-but-still-significant name. Enough left to see he’d never be caught like in Kirkwall again. Oh, but it was just so boring sometimes.
At first, the money had meant something. Safety most of all. In Tevinter you needed at least two of three: strong magic, astronomical wealth, a powerful family. Quinn could now check off the first two. Marriage would be the only cure for the last – and Marcher expats did not rate highly among the local noble ladies. No matter.
The longer Quinn watched, the more one of tonight’s guests began to stand out to him. A tall man, curiously blank in affect, barely partaking. That wasn’t itself unusual, bodyguards were very common where the powerful came to play and lose their heads.
Except this man was dressed too fine to be a bodyguard. Quinn headed downstairs to introduce himself, stopping by the bar for an expensive bottle of magically enhanced blue wine. He sat down at the other end of the couch, setting the bottle and two glasses down on the low table.
“I guess I don’t know everyone after all. Please, share a drink with me. On the house.”
Ideally, this was how every night should go. Efficient. The tidy extraction of wealth beneath a gauzy sheen of pleasure, flowing into neat categories in his mind. Operating costs, a tithe to the literal Eyes so that they didn’t find a reason to shut this place down. A goodly portion to House Pavus for the power of that diminished-but-still-significant name. Enough left to see he’d never be caught like in Kirkwall again. Oh, but it was just so boring sometimes.
At first, the money had meant something. Safety most of all. In Tevinter you needed at least two of three: strong magic, astronomical wealth, a powerful family. Quinn could now check off the first two. Marriage would be the only cure for the last – and Marcher expats did not rate highly among the local noble ladies. No matter.
The longer Quinn watched, the more one of tonight’s guests began to stand out to him. A tall man, curiously blank in affect, barely partaking. That wasn’t itself unusual, bodyguards were very common where the powerful came to play and lose their heads.
Except this man was dressed too fine to be a bodyguard. Quinn headed downstairs to introduce himself, stopping by the bar for an expensive bottle of magically enhanced blue wine. He sat down at the other end of the couch, setting the bottle and two glasses down on the low table.
“I guess I don’t know everyone after all. Please, share a drink with me. On the house.”
06-20-2024, 05:44 PM
