Prompt: What is my crime?
I did a prompt! This is progress for me. I was late, but I did it! lol
Prompt: "And what is my crime?" "I have this list in front of me, where do you want me to start?"
Characters: Aveline, Kali-Rielle Hawke
“And what are my supposed crimes this time, Aveline? I thought I’d been well-behaved.”
“This week? This month? The last two days…?”
A lift of the shoulder, a shake of the head, green doe-eyes the picture of innocence.
Aveline was undeterred. “Breaking into the Reinhardt estate?”
The green eyes narrowed in confusion before Hawke laughed, open and free. “Mother and I were *invited*, to have tea with them. We hardly had to break in. Are you hungry, by the way? You’re welcome to share this.” She slid the silver snack tray toward the Guard Captain, then popped a raspberry into her own mouth, taking the time to savor it before she continued. “They probably misplaced it. Could you imagine planning a heist with Mother? ‘Stand up straight, dear. Maker’s breath, this sneaking about is terrible for your posture. I do wish you’d worn those lace-trimmed heels if we’re to set foot in such an esteemed estate.’”
Aveline lifted a piece of cheese off the tray as the young woman rambled, examining it as it fell limp between her fingers. Withholding a groan, she met Hawke’s eyes again. “You’re telling me you had nothing to do with an item from the Starkhaven palace disappearing from the Reinhardt’s library?”
“Am I your first suspect every time something from Starkhaven goes missing?” Hawke waved an elegant hand toward a cracker, a gesture of rescue.
“You know exactly why I thought of you.” Maker help her, Hawke’s constant state of amusement – usually at her expense – was going to break one of them some day. She took the cracker, plopped the cheese on it, and ate both.
“Aw, that’s sweet, Aveline. You’re right. I would be happy to buy the wayward item when Lucy finds it tucked in with the family flatware.”
“It wouldn’t… What did you think was missing?”
“Fine. You’re not involved. If you do hear anything…”
“I can’t make any promises about that. But I would be happy to help you reunite stolen goods with their rightful owner.”
“Only when the rightful owner is Starkhaven’s displaced Prince.”
“I’m sure the Kirkwall Guard is perfectly capable of taking care of the rest.”
After the visit from the Guard Captain, which she hoped was fruitless – well, aside from the actual fruit – Hawke went upstairs to her own library shelves. Fingers traipsing over her collection, she plucked out the latest addition. Wouldn’t do to have it sitting out where anyone might see it. She tucked the small book of poems into the pocket of her house dress and meandered down into the kitchen, into the cellar, into the vault. Locking it behind her, she slipped inside the secret room behind a false wall, and stepped up to the Starkhaven armoire she had rescued two months ago. She opened it with the key she kept tucked among her picks, set the book inside for safe keeping, then examined the true object of the quest inside the estate of her mother’s oldest friends.
He was a handsome old man, painted in oils and framed in intricately carved mahogany. The deep blue background highlighted the striking cerulean of his eyes. Smile lines framed them, delightfully so. His hair was wavy and grey with a neatly trimmed goatee, and his skin was beautiful bronze. His expression conveyed strength, solemnity, but for the slight press at the corners of his lips, as if suppressing a smile.
“I don’t know who you are, Messere, but I hope you’re valuable to someone.”