He’d much rather have walked, but he’d not been afforded the choice. As he disembarked from the ship that had brought him up from Vyrantium Enzo spied his family’s carriage parked alongside those of other Altus houses, awaiting the returning noble youths who’d finished their mandatory service. His leave papers signed, Enzo had but to bid hearty farewells to his fellows before stepping into the shade of the carriage’s interior. What luxuries he’d been allowed while away would be brought directly to his family’s home once they were unloaded. He’d hardly settled into the seat before the driver cracked the reins and steered them onto the street.
Pushing back the curtain, Enzo watched the people and buildings slowly scroll by, trying to discern what might have changed in his time away. It had only been two years, true, but Minrathous was a bustling metropolis, every growing and shifting in its seat. And here, in the districts nearest the docks, the shops and warehouses crowded one atop the next so thick it was impossible to tell old from new. It all boasted the same grime. But soon the avenues widened and the buildings gave each other room to breathe. The dress of the pedestrians changed from muted browns and blacks to the more colorful prints of gentle society. The air tasted cleaner, and while Enzo expected to discover far fewer changes as he approached more familiar territory, his eyes still drank it all in as hungrily. Much as he’d loved his time deployed, it was good to be home.
Catrin and her many skirts sat draped in a chaise near the large windows of the drawing room, squinting at a small book not much larger than her dainty hands with lips pursed slightly in concentration. Hadrian stood, rail straight with hand on hip as he regarded a much larger tomb open before him on an ornate stand. A tea service sat on the table between them, though neither had seemed to bother to partake. Enzo’s entrance to the house had not been immediately noticed and he allowed himself a small smile as he took in the scene.
“A portrait of domestic bliss.” he said by way of announcing himself. Both of his parents glanced up, brows arched slightly in mild surprise. His mother’s then took flight even higher as realization bloomed across her face.
“Darling!”
“Now there’s a soldier!”
Both his parents spoke at once, his mother struggling with her skirts a moment as she moved to stand. Enzo stepped quickly toward her, offering a hand. She took it with a smile, bringing it to her lips to kiss before pulling the rest of him into an embrace. Hadrian stepped closer as well, clapping a hand to Enzo’s shoulder and gripping it with pride.
“Welcome home, son.”
“Some tea, darling? Are you hungry?” Catrin quickly snatched up her small silver bell, ordering new tea and light refreshment before Enzo could protest. “Come, my sweet, sit. Sit. How was your journey?...”
Several hours later, after assuring his mother he was indeed well rested and no longer hungry, and after a drink and a debrief of his service with his father in the study, Enzo was free and walking with a brisk step away from his family’s house and toward one of his favorite haunts in Minrathous. Yes, he’d had to promise his mother several times that he would call on Sabina on the morrow, but tonight… tonight was for him and for what he’d missed most while away.
Tiberius stepped off the ship and simply disappeared, avoiding his family entirely. What was the old man going to do anyway, look for him personally? Nah, it was beneath Grandfather’s dignity. Mother’s too, probably. Slaves and lesser cousins, no chance, not if he didn't want to be found.
He had a feeling that if he ever went back to the House, they’d never let him out again. Or maybe he just wanted to be chased. At eighteen, his moods were all over the place. Safely past the rows of somber carriages, Tiberius dropped his spell and wandered into the city on foot. He bought a selection of ripe fruits and sat and ate it on the steps outside the Pavus estate, flicking seeds into the gutter. Great hulking pile this place was, blocking out half the sun. He was cold and uncomfortable in minutes.
Would Enzo be done yet? Perhaps he could go see? … Tiberius settled on sneaking into his friend’s rooms instead. Disappointing to find no one there, though the chambers were aired out and ready. He rifled through Enzo’s wardrobe and changed into some of his clothes – found the fit a little short in the legs, a little too broad in the shoulders. He hung up his uniform in their place. Kept his own boots.
There were differences here, between the wealth of a low house and that of a high house. Even if this branch of the Pavus family was never meant to inherit the full power of their name. It was hard not to search for them, to feel a little envious of the pride and warmth showered on his friend. His own family was not so warm.
It seemed like he waited for hours, before the movements of the servants told him someone was leaving. Tiberius snuck back out the way he’d come in, catching up to Enzo in the street. He threw his arm around his shoulder, leaning heavily into him. The street was all twilight and lamplight
Unlike his fellow colleagues, no-one stood waiting for Malachai when the ship docked and the rats jumped for the comfort of land and home. The youth had lingered, lurking in the usual shadows that he excelled in until most of the passengers had disembarked and he could walk the deck relatively alone. Or so he had thought?
[color=#9df9ff]“Still not checking all your corners, Malachai.” [/color]
The line across his face turned upwards at the corners, his pace drawing to a halt with the familiar chiding tone. Bhaal. If there was one thing Malachai had missed about Minrathous it had been his mentor and tutor. The younger man turned, hand pulling the hood of his robe down to grin slightly, shoulders bobbing lightly. [color=#ff851b]“My corners are at least clear of whatever is growing between your ears, because again, you are late.” [/color]
[color=#9df9ff]“You still waited.” [/color]
[color=#ff851b]“Habit.” [/color]He’d argue, gaze narrowing. [color=#ff851b]“It’s rude to make people wait. Especially when they’ve been summoned home?”[/color] A brow arched, but Bhaal could provide no explanation, the reason only compounding Mal’s suspicions. There better not be a marriage proposal happening. He pushed it from his mind for now, joining his mentor for the journey back to the Valentius estate.
What greeted him there was the familiar coldness of the servants, the cook especially. Spiteful cow. Her eyes landed on him and the two sneered at each other, Mal reacting quicker than she at hurling an insult at the other, [color=#ff851b]“Yes. The Half-Breed isn’t dead. I’m afraid Ginny gets your winnings, Flora. I’m only here to change and I’ll be out of your sight soon enough.”[/color] Why he had to leave the relative comfort of the military academy he had no idea, but apparently his father had deemed Mal worthy of the break.
When she couldn’t produce an answer, Mal merely smiled, the smirk of victory spreading across his face while he walked away after procuring an apple. He ignored her spluttered protest, leaving the kitchens for the furthest wing of the estate and his rooms. Despite the elegant rooms and grandeur each step felt laden with a growing frustration that may only be abated with a drink and not within the confines of this god awful place. Even Bhaal’s company couldn’t warm the homecoming that was the indifference of his so-called family. Being a bastard had its curse.
A quick refresh and new set of clothes and Mal was once again climbing out his window, down the trellis and onto the rooftops before even an hour had passed.
Each step away from his family's house felt lighter than the last. A smile settled naturally onto his face as Enzo walked, eager for the freedom the setting sun provided. To be young and high born in this city was a blank check and he wasn't about to waste it. So wrapped up was he in deliberating the options for the evening that he didn't notice his friend's approach. Granted, Enzo would not likely have noticed it anyway. Tibs was damn good at not being noticed when he didn't want to be. The young man's sudden weight against him caused Enzo to stumble slightly until their balance was corrected. Enzo's arm encircled his friend as he laughed.
"What an absolutely brilliant idea!" he said, but then stopped when something off about Tiberius caught his eye. Head tilted, Enzo put his hand on Tiberius' shoulder to hold the other man still as Enzo stepped back to look him up and down. His hand moved to the collar of the jacket, feeling the fabric between thumb and forefinger before lifting it to the side to inspect the shirt underneath. After a moment, realization struck and Enzo shook his head back and forth to combat the laughter bubbling up. "I see you've finally caught up to the modern trends." he said, returning his attention to the collar, which he adjusted slightly with both hands before putting his arm back around Tiberius and resuming their stroll. "It suits you." he added.
The Rose and Pony sat in an ideal location. It was far enough away from the pomp of the majority of Altus residences that their noble patrons felt as if they walked a bit on the wild side, but still far enough away from the undesirable districts that no real trouble could find them, lest they made that trouble themselves. And it was a tradition so cemented in the fabric of society that youths returning from their service celebrate there that is was practically law. This night was no exception. Enzo and Tiberius found the crowds already starting to gather as they entered. Plush couches and chairs were scattered to the left of the entrance, allowing patrons to lounge comfortably. Tables of varying sizes with benches and chairs dominated most of the space, while a stage and open floor for dancing was to the right. A large bar dominated most of the back wall, with a staircase leading up to quieter sitting areas and rooms to the left of it and a doorway to the facilities to the right. A band was on the stage, tuning their instruments.
Enzo breathed in the scent of alcohol, food, and eager youth. This was just as much home to him as his rooms back at the house. "First round is on me, Tibby dearest." he said, winking at his friend. "Ale? or are we feeling strong tonight?"
“All my ideas are.” Tiberius preened under Enzo’s examination, raking back his hair and trying on what he imagined to be his most provocative smile. It probably needed work – mirrors of any decent size had been in short supply lately. Still, he blushed at the unexpected compliment – or perhaps at the lingering touch at his purloined collar? – and ducked his head as they continued onward.
Ambivalent towards the venue and entertainment both, Tiberius headed for one of the quieter seating areas upstairs. The Rose and Pony was full to bursting with familiar faces. Some, like Enzo, still wore their uniforms. Others had changed back into regular attire, donning house crests and sigils that carried a lot more weight here in the capital. Drew new lines upon the social battlefield.
Made him wonder where Malachai was. There was no polite way to say it: a half-elf bastard would be safer with friends at hand, especially in such environs. Months of showing up a bunch of rich brats would do that — and Tiberius would know, being a rich brat with more than a little overlap in magical talents. Enzo pulled his attention back after they took their seats.
“Oh, go get lost in a swamp.”Tibby, indeed. Why couldn’t Vincenzo shorten into something silly? Or Antonius even, since Enzo’s parents had seen fit to saddle him with two names. It was all deeply unfair.
“We've got all night, so strength’s optional but it better be something good. We should wait for Mal, though.” It wouldn’t be right to begin festivities without the third of their number.
Magic dampened the sound of his leaps and strides, weaving between the rafters and rooftops into the area of inns, taverns and game houses of the elite area. Despite his height, Mal melted into whatever shadows he could find or manipulate to conceal his way into the district with little hindrance, years of remaining the unseen bastard of Valentius until his entry to the academy only cementing his position as a forward scout. Finding the pair had been easy from this advantage, their destination predictable also and though he had little desire to join their classmates, Tiberias and Enzo had proved capable, dependable companions. Some would return to their families, others into politics or arranged positions, a few would go down the academic route while Mal and a scant few would go career, its length dependent on if they survived an encounter with the Qunari beasts.
Anywhere, even this place, was better than being stuck back in an empty mansion, despised by all. Might as well become used to the public scrutiny. Seheron at least had new rooftops to explore. He’d be sent there soon enough.
It was a simple feat, dropping down from the heights into the alley behind the inn and through the door unnoticed. Mal found the restroom to freshen up and straighten out his new uniform, the top button left unbuttoned beecause, fuck it he’d be comfortable not strangled tonight. Exiting, he’d return some looks with a feral grin and a pleasant wave before slipping off to find his few allies. Sidling up, Mal took the stool on Tiberius other side. “He did. Twice, if memory serves. Both times he lost his boots,” catching the flying jabs and rubbing in the joys of their training.
“And ale?” he’d snort. “Gods, where are we? Ferelden?” The South could be so barbaric. It was a wonder they survived maintaining their Independence from the Frogs. “At least go a tad North, or Dwarven, the Dog-Lords know nothing of hops and the art of brewing. Whisky? Brandy? Something with a kick, surely.”
How he'd managed to end up with the two sneakiest sons of... Enzo shook his head at Malachai's sudden appearance. He really ought to have been used to it by now. Both Mal and Tibs enjoyed using their stealthier skills against him. At times, Enzo wondered if they had some kind of competition going.
"The second time doesn't count." he said, holding up a finger in protest. "I didn't lose them. I... made a tactical decision to leave them behind." Enzo furrowed his brow a moment, then nodded. Yes. That was exactly what he'd done. He'd written just that in his report after all.
"Point taken, Mal." he added at Mal's protestations on their drink options. "I'll be right back. Don't you two go slinking off into any shadows without me." Another wink and Enzo was stepping lightly back down the stairs to the bar.
Back on the ground floor, he found himself pressing through the crowd. Greetings and claps on the shoulder abounded as he smiled and moved through the revelers. When he finally made it to the bar, he had to wait a while until he caught the server's attention. "Three of the Reverence Reserve. Neat." he said. Surely the bourbon would satisfy Mal's picky palate. The barkeep nodded and Enzo turned his attention to the crowds as he waited.
From the stage, the first few notes of a popular song rang out and cheers and whistles erupted from the revelers. Enzo smiled, enjoying the energy being generated. When the barkeep returned and poured, Enzo paid and collected the glasses. His return through the crowd was a slower affair, as he was careful not to spill as he navigated the maze.
"Not all for you, surely?" the voice was musical and sweet, just behind him as he'd come to a stop, waiting for an opening in a crowd of people near the base of the stairs. Enzo turned to see a petite young woman with chestnut hair curled and pinned high on her head in what was instantly recognizable as some of the most expensive fashion one might encounter in Minrathaus. Her crystal blue eyes peared up at him through batting lashes as she affected a demure smile that might have taken ages of practice. He gave her his own well practiced roguish grin in return, not hiding his gaze as it drank her in.
"No. I'm here with some friends. Are you...?" he let the question trail off, his eyes moving to search nearby.
"Also with some friends." she finished for him.
"Ah." he nodded. "Well, we're just up there." he gestured with a movement of his chin toward the stairs. "I'm sure I can speak for them as well that you and your friends are welcome to join us, Miss..."
"Camilla"
"Camilla." Enzo let his voice drop just slightly as he repeated her name, ducking his head a bit closer to her as he did. He pursed his lips, then smiled again at her, pleased at the way she dropped her eyes away and then back up at him, a touch of pink forming on her cheeks. "Camilla." he said again, nodding as if in approval of the way it felt on his tongue, as he stepped into an opening of the crowd. He started up the stairs, turning one last time to catch her eye as she made her own way back to her companions. His grin widened in self satisfaction as he turned away and neared their table.
"Gentleman," he said, setting glasses in from of both of them then standing to his full height to hold his own glass up to the middle of the table, "to our years of service. May we reap the benefits tonight, and tomorrow night... and the next..." his eyes twinkled as he toasted his friends, hopeful of what the night might bring.
At some point, you were just feeding good leather to the wilds. Tiberius shrugged as the other two discussed drinks, wondering idly at Mal’s preferences. They’d been sixteen the last time they’d spent any amount of time at home. While he could well imagine the other boy stealing from his father’s liquor cabinet …
Equal chance he might be full of shit, parroting the opinions of older men. Perhaps the proof would be in the drinking? Tiberius hoped they would all acquit themselves well in that regard. But it’d also be very funny if they coughed or threw up. Not him, of course.
"You’re going to reenlist, aren’t you?” It seemed a reasonable thing to do, a better option than the church for aimless noble youths. He thought Enzo would go for it too. Music bubbled up from the floor below, a vibration he could feel in his chest and in the soles of his boots while his thoughts drifted back to sea. To the letter he’d thrown overboard. Tiberius ruffled his hair, until styled waves turned loose and staticy.
“Look after Pavus for me, will you? Make sure he doesn’t lose any more boots.” Any fighting they saw from here on out would be miles more serious. Endless skirmishes with Qunari giants in the jungle, no doubt. The stairs creaked as Enzo marched back up, a chorus of giggling voices in his wake. Tiberius shot Mal a look of exaggerated horror.
He took his glass and stood up for the toast, studying the amber liquid within. The smell was warm and woody and a little bit sweet, not entirely pleasant.
“To us.” The sneakiest bastards in their year – and then one of the loudest, somehow. Tiberius took in a breath, held it in, and threw back a generous sip. He wrinkled his nose at the fumes, settling back down in his seat. Coming up the stairs now were a cluster of young women, presumably the benefits that Enzo wished to reap.
It was always a competition of some sorts between the three of them. Being a shunned bastard only aided Mal’s quick adoption of the sneakier arts, what better way to hide the unmentionable stain? He flashed a smirk at the brandished finger. The second time… leaning on the table, musing exaggeratedly what they all knew too well. Is that really how you want to play it?
He nodded silently though as their more forward friend made off to acquire them drinks. Was he alone in raiding the coveted array of spirits and wine available to him? Surely not. Admittedly the first time had been an accident, mistaken bottle, or so he’d claim when Bhaal had questioned him. He’d learned quickly, vodka disagreed with him greatly.
It’s the most logical step, it’s where all the other half-breeds go, he’d return nonchalantly, switching to lean back into the stool. Mal had known where he was going, it was merely a matter of figuring out where he fit into the machine of war. Pavus is lucky. You think they’ll send an Altus to the front lines? No. That’s my domain. He’ll just lose his boots again. With Enzo’s connections he’d likely land something cushy unless he asked for it, the nobles rallied around their potential heirs in the world of politics and who’d sit on the Archon seat next their true goal.
It was a cage Mal was grateful to be mostly ostracised from. Present company excluded of course. The three had quickly bonded and while Enzo might follow his path, there was never any guarantee. Not with the Qunari. The feud had gone on for generations now and there still seemed to be no resolution or victory in sight. So, unlike Tibby, Mal ventured to live a little before he disappeared entirely. The look of horror only caused him to chuckle, louder than usual, He comes through, does he not?
He joined his friends to stand and toast their respective futures, May one of us never lose our boots to a squirrel again, the second discover something to care about other than his good looks and I… well, surviving is what I excel at, so I suppose a continuation is not so bad? Shaking his head with a small laugh, Mal placed the glass to his lips bracing himself for the hit and followed it with a mild shudder. Not bad.
Now Enzo… placing down his glass and appraising him with an arched brow. Did you set among the pigeons already? Turning slightly to hide his approval from the approaching ladies before adding a quiet, Now there’s a good lad. See, at least he thinks of us, Tibby.
Enzo's caught first Tiberius' and then Malachai's eyes as they toasted, giving the latter a slight roll of his own eyes. Would he truly hold on to that tale forever? He supposed he'd have to give Mal something else to talk about for next time. As he sipped from his glass, he wondered just when that next time would be. He'd already spoken with his father, made his intentions clear. He wasn't done with the soldier's life. Sabina could wait another few years. She would do so gladly, of that much he was sure. His father had protested some, but he'd been a soldier himself. He understood.
"Now, now..." Enzo said, setting his glass down on the table at Mal's words. "You should know me better than that by now. It was I who was set upon!" he said, his voice low to match Mal's in not escaping their table. He gave Mal a firm pat on the shoulder and threw a wink to Tibs. "Look sharp now." he added before turning.
From the stairway, four lovely young things walked confidently toward them. Camilla smiled at the front of the little flock. She walked, arm linked with a pale and dark haired woman. Pink flushed their cheeks as they stole glances at the three soldiers before darting their eyes away again. Behind them, also with their arms entwined, two more followed. One wore an elaborate scarf wrapped about her head and concealing her hair. Her skin was a dark chocolate and seemed to glow in the lamplight. The other, bronzed skinned with dark brown hair that she allowed to flow in careless curls about her shoulders.
"Camilla." Enzo said, allowing his tongue to linger on the 'L's as he dipped his head toward the women. "I'd feared you'd only been teasing me, but I am glad to be wrong. May I introduce my brothers in arms, Malachai and Tiberius." he gestured to one, then the other.
"A pleasure, gentlemen." she replied, dipping ever so slightly, her friends following suit. "And may I introduce Delia," the woman whose arm she held dipped, "Ophelia," the woman with the scarf followed in kind, "and Junia." As the last dipper her curtsy, a serving woman stepped around them, a tray with a bottle and several glasses in hand. She set it down on the table and disappeared. "We understand that you're newly returned from your service. We'd like to offer you our gratitude."
The bottle contained a pale green liquid. Enzo did not recognize the label. But he was not the sort to turn down an offered drink. He smiled, turning his head toward his fellows as his brows arched in a self-satisfied expression. "That is very kind, ladies. But you will let us pour for you, surely. Come, sit." he said, stepping aside and motioning the women toward the table. He then gestured to Tiberius to pour as he stole chairs from other tables.
Yes, he supposed being in an old Altus house would make a difference – even though Enzo was not the heir. Cousin Dorian on the other side of the Imperium might yet meet with some sort of misadventure. No doubt that Enzo’s parents might even hope for such a thing, a return to prominence for this branch of the family. Tiberius was still chewing on Mal’s words as the ladies joined, slipping between them. He found himself with a stranger seated to either side, filling the air with perfume and too-sharp elbows.
“Shit. Not you too, Mal. I won’t answer to that.” Tibby – it sounded like a name for a little boy. He leaned forward to examine the bottle deposited in his care. It smelled strongly of liquorice. “And I care about lots of other things, for your information."
He could not imagine why a bunch of strange women would want to thank him for anything, and the way they traveled as a group put him ill at ease. They were certainly outflanked. All the ia’s blurred together and he had no idea who was who.
“Sure. Whatever you want.” He watched Enzo collect chairs, then turned his attention to pouring an even amount into each of the seven glasses. The woman to his left put a hand on his knee, smiling as he offered her a glass. Tiberius colored to his ears and looked away.
There was one reason that came to mind after all. Husband hunting – as if Grandfather wouldn’t skin him alive for looking at an unsuitable match with intent. He lifted his glass and drained it, coughing a little as he forgot to hold his breath. After a few moments, he lifted the hand away and dropped it, watching the girls redouble their efforts on the other two.
Mal’s next words were halted, was this a rare occasion of the man being right. Yes, you do have a knack of being ambushed when I think about it. He’d snicker but rolled his eyes at the pat to the back. Who was the one to find that boot? his voice would quip back, knowing he had the best eye for finding things, mostly trouble, but his keen eye came in useful.
Well, Tibby, it’s all I’m going to address you as, shaking his head and turning to greet the ladies. It wouldn't be, only occasionally if to just tease him.
The lady veiled, had caught his eye as they’d all topped the stairs, her name carefully remembered, and rolled over and over for any connection or acquaintance. Ophelia. None, nothing that came to mind, so he smiled, gesturing for her to take his chair while another took Enzo’s while the man himself fetched them some more.
Quite a lovely name, Ophelia. How has your evening been so far? The question was presented to all of them, his gaze travelling around the group before firmly fixing on the masked girl. There were a few murmurs that caught his attention for a fraction, but it was the woman occupying his chair who’s answer he was most curious about.
"Oh, a lill dull till now," came the reply.
Mal chuckled, casting a glance over to the flaming Tibby as he handed over a glass of… something. Now his curiosity was piqued, perhaps more suspicious of them than his comrades. He was all down for a good time, but he didn’t want to wake up half-dead in an alley in nothing but his skin. If they drank of it themselves, then he’d be somewhat relieved, if only a fraction.
The girls were quick to settle in. By the time Enzo turned back around with chairs, it seemed Mal had made his claim and Tiberius... had been claimed, doubly so. They'd thoroughly trapped him between themselves and the table. The red at his ears made Enzo smile as he returned with chairs, sliding one over to Mal. He ensured Camilla was comfortable and then leaned over the table, distributing the glasses Tibs had filled.
"To your service." Camilla said, holding her glass up and looking to each man. The other ladies voiced their toasts, echoing her, and drank.
"We live to serve." Enzo said, draping his arm across the back of her chair as he too drank. "Now, I think that will be enough toasting, for tonight. Ladies, our sincerest gratitude, really. But if you keep this up we will be insufferable. Him in particular." Enzo gestured at Mal. "Now, rather than stuffy formalities, I'd like to propose a game."
"Oh, I love a good game." Junia said, nudging at Tiberius' arm as her head dipped and her eyes attempted to connect with his. "Don't you?"
"What sort of game?" Camila asked, her tone seemingly wary. She squinted her eyes slightly at Enzo as she took another sip from her glass, as if to accuse him of something nefarious. But her smile belied the humor she took from this.
"Oh, something to help us get to know one another more..." his eyes had connected with Camilla's and his words trailed off as they smiled at one another.
"Intimately?" Delia offered from Tiberius' other side.
Camilla pursed her lips, holding back a chuckle.
"Intimately. Enzo agreed, holding Camilla's gaze a few moments longer before abruptly turning. "Mal." he said, rapping his knuckles on the table. "This is your forte, I believe. Give us a game. What shall it be?"
To your service. Tiberius snorted and swirled the dregs around his empty glass. It seemed he'd been excluded from the toast by his desire to mentally check out of this situation as quickly as possible. It felt about right. He didn’t think much of his compulsory service, such as it was. Mostly training, a couple hectic months of skirmishing tacked on at the end.
You weren’t a man until you’d killed a Qunari giant, of course. Now that seemed like something Grandfather would say while deep in his cups. His brows drew down as he watched Enzo drape his arm around one of the ias – no, he could remember that one’s name, if only because Enzo had said it. Camilla. He was staring at his friend’s fingers, aggrieved and betrayed.
Mal had seemed somewhere in between, hesitant about the drink. Well, that was only good sense. Fine. If they were doing this — he needed only to get insufferably drunk.
This did not come naturally to Tiberius. Touching, innuendo. That had to be done manually, with effort. But he was quite adept at showmanship, darkening the space around their table with a flick of his wrist, so that the rest of the bar seemed to fade away. Putting a spotlight on Mal with another. He smiled at Junia.
“Oh. Well, that depends entirely on whether it is the kind of game with winners and losers. I wouldn’t waste my time on something with no stakes.” Delia was the bolder of the two, whose hand he had so recently evicted from his person. Now, he’d have to pretend he had some preference for her pale friend for that to make any kind of sense. Leaning forward, he poured another glass from the bottle. They’d need more alcohol soon if everyone drank from it twice.
Or perhaps he could make an ass of himself, have the girls leave of their own accord. It was very tempting. Perhaps he ultimately landed somewhere in the middle. Tiberius leaned close to Junia, the scent of her hair tickling his nose, and pitched his voice low just for her.
“Gratitude this, gratitude that. What do you suppose the two of them really mean by it?” This position gave him a rather good view down the front of her gown. He wasn’t gentleman enough to completely ignore it.
“Oh, well, I wouldn’t want to say anything shocking …”
“Please do.” He spared Delia an apologetic glance and took a sip of his drink. This did not improve the taste, herbal and overly sweet.
Enzo returned with chairs for them both and Mal slide it in closer to Ophelia’s. He picked up his drink, offering it up a fraction and waiting till the girls confirmed it wasn’t anything nefarious. It went down though he didn’t care for it much, lips thinning before returning for the rest of his whisky.
Me Pfft, I’m delightful. Don’t believe a word of him. throwing Camilla a teasing wiggle of brows, casting the veiled woman next to him a wink afterwards. His ears piqued at the word of a game, though he said nothing as his hand drew the glass to his lips. His gaze made a sweep between the girls and their reactions, his own head tilting to one side after setting down the empty glass.
That is my name, yes. Nodding curiously before he scoffed.My fort- ugh, cards yes, and… he snickered, suddenly leaning deeper into the chair. Let me think, there are many that are too lewd for dear Tibby’s ears. Yes. He wasn’t going to stand in the spotlight all alone. Truth? Questions?... Word games, though that can quickly become very naughty.
Does that mean you’re an avid reader? Ophelia piped up.
Mal’s snapped his fingers, pointing at her. You get it. Yes. I do. He leaned back into his new chair, And what books do you enjoy?
Oh not many, but I am partial to the Randy Dowager.
The smut, how rebellious of you. Enzo, your turn, or one of the other ladies perhaps?
