[He smiles at that joke, for it's amusing enough (and he does not like the Marquis' mistress, snobbish thing that she is). But it's what comes after that intrigues him: that slanted grin, charming in its roguishness and cleverness both— and emphasized by the question that Astarion offers him.]
Neromenian, I believe.
[One of the cities along the coast within the Tevinter Imperium, and it's— it is what it is. No one expects all trade to cease just because two countries are at war; ideologies are all well and good, but money is money, and those with enough gold can turn blind eyes easily enough. It's not so shocking that she's adorned in jewels from those they're at war with . . .
. . . but it's not going unnoticed, either. There are whispers here and there, speculation and rumor, and Vakares wonders if that isn't the point. Say what you will about the woman, but she isn't stupid: she'd worn this outfit on purpose. And now every motion, every movement, every soft throated laugh or sharp smile is a deliberate message— though what that message is might be up for interpretation.
He glances at Astarion, one eyebrow raising (invisible behind his mask, actually, but he forgets that, too eager to discuss tactics).]
And what of it?
[Tell me, for he wants to measure just how clever this elf really is.]
no subject
Neromenian, I believe.
[One of the cities along the coast within the Tevinter Imperium, and it's— it is what it is. No one expects all trade to cease just because two countries are at war; ideologies are all well and good, but money is money, and those with enough gold can turn blind eyes easily enough. It's not so shocking that she's adorned in jewels from those they're at war with . . .
. . . but it's not going unnoticed, either. There are whispers here and there, speculation and rumor, and Vakares wonders if that isn't the point. Say what you will about the woman, but she isn't stupid: she'd worn this outfit on purpose. And now every motion, every movement, every soft throated laugh or sharp smile is a deliberate message— though what that message is might be up for interpretation.
He glances at Astarion, one eyebrow raising (invisible behind his mask, actually, but he forgets that, too eager to discuss tactics).]
And what of it?
[Tell me, for he wants to measure just how clever this elf really is.]