Private Tales Vintage

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"Is it so strange that a wanderer such as myself who has spent the majority of her life on the road would seek a place of comfort and luxury to retire to from time to time?" Fiera fixed the man with a simple, sanguine smile, red eyes faintly glowing in the darker light of the cellar.

"I enjoy the courts of nobles for the same reason you enjoy having Gideon in your employ; they are mildly entertaining. And like I said..." she raised her other gloved hand to gently gesture where he could see, "it's not very often I take company with a King without being in irons. Call it a novel pleasure."
 
“Novelty is never to be underestimated.”

He glanced at her raised wrist.

“But not all chains are made of iron...”

Full lips curled into a leonine smile.
 
"And there are no chains that can hold me," the elf smiled back, "do we have an accord?"
 
“That remains to be seen.”

His fingers drummed on the table, then he nodded.

“We do. Please, take a bottle on your way out.”
 
She smirked.

"You are most gracious, but I shant spoil myself. Save the next bottle for my imminent return, hm? I'll see myself out." Sliding from the chair she doffed a cordial dip of her head to the King before the noking of her boot heels announced her exit from the cellar and his vineyard estate.
 
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