aenigma
@tavis-of-bannorn | continued
The woman he saw was clearly dressed in the macabre dark velvet styling of Tevinter fashion with a high collar and long sleeves that modestly covered the skin, though she lacked the darker tan of most native Tevene and could have readily passed as a southerner had she any desire to mask her country of origin. As he spoke her head lifted up from her own dusty tome, her attention shifting fully toward the elf. Ilyria did not usually trouble elves, nor anyone else without good reason for that matter, but this one’s peculiar reading habits had intrigued her. As intended, the remark was sufficiently surprising to draw away his attention. A curiosity rewarded, for the little already given.
The corner of her lip drew up into a subtle smirk at the reply as though they had just shared in a private joke. “Why that is easy. They all have their best interest at heart. As you are what you are, there will be none with anything but the cruelest intention toward you, if they have any intention at all.”
The curve of her mouth quickly vanished as she shifted in her seat to face him, crossing and uncrossing her legs. “Now, then. Why would one of the Dalish be taking interest in Tevinter, hm?”
