Down to the depths we go

Soon after the....interesting first meeting between Lasair and her fiance Basileios, the respective members of the Andraste family were notified that the match was a stunning success and both parties were positively riveted for the upcoming nuptials. Cyrille read the written news from his uncle with a scathing look of disbelief. If he knew his cousin Lasair at all, she went into nothing with a riveted frame of mind. Maybe if there was blood on the floor, metaphorical or otherwise, but there was no way in hell she was taking this lightly. If anything, he pitied whoever her fiance was. He'd regret the decision within a week, he'd place money on it.

Who on earth were the Veres' anyway? He had to take down a book of peerage just to find them, and he quietly frowned over how little he was familiar with them. But still, while their name sounded rather small and insignificant, there was something about them that rang in the back of his mind. He shut the book and left it near his leather armchair, making long strides towards the fireplace as he took a drag from his cigarette. Where did he hea-

Ah. Of course. It had been such the scandal at the time. That it was even remotely possible for a mage to lose his magic was reason enough for the family to be shunned, as if it were something to catch if you lingered too long. He exhaled blue smoke through his nose as his lips turned to smile, and then to laugh against the fireplace mantle.

Perfect little Lasair, shackled to a social pariah! Oh, he would've given anything to have seen the look on her face, to hear the panic behind that flawless mask of hers. He bit his lower lip just imagining the flicker of emotions she surely must've felt, a beautiful symphony of fury and despair. Most of the time he adored how cruel his uncle and aunt were, if only that they inflicted their callous behavior far, far away from his humble estate outside the walls of Faline.

He dropped his cigarette on the flagstones and crushed it under his heel, unable to contain the smile that lightened him. He wrote immediately to this Basileios Veres to join him for an afternoon, offering his express sympathies and support for the trials to come. He wasn't coy in how he phrased that - what use had he for riddles like Lasair would? She played a game that pleased everyone and left her enemies too terrified to retaliate, mindful of how anything could be overheard, how correspondence could fall into unwelcome hands, and he counted his watchful stars that he needn't give a damn.

His home wasn't far from the city walls, but what he prided himself on was the landscape. The drive up to the brick and black-stone house was surrounded by a dark tree line so dense it might as well have been a forest. Lampposts guided the way, always lit under the concealing canopy. You could easily get lost once you passed the gate, only to find your way by the constant sound of music that came from his home, luring and almost ominous in its beauty.

He couldn't wait to meet him.