wip thursday tuesday tag game
Thanks to @the-ink-kettle for the tag! honestly at this point I don't know which of my mutuals writes regularly, so I'm going to take the coward's way out and tag @jiubilant and any TESblr who wants to do this off me - show us what you're working on, or signpost some other WIP!
anyway here's something I've been toying with for a while but only got the impetus to start once I was tagged :D so legit tysm for the kick in the ass!
Bastian kept his face pleasant as the third noble of the afternoon cornered him. It wasn’t as if he was a stranger to glittering high-society soirees, and the one being hosted by Lady Silane was very normal so far as those were concerned, but it had apparently gotten out that his absence from the Silvelle’s most recent trip to Daggerfall was because he was, in fact, on the other side of High Rock.
“Did you enjoy the cooler weather down in Evermore?” this particular noble drawled, swirling the wine in his long-stemmed tasting glass. Bastian made a bow.
“Of course.” He tried very hard not to be more curt than could be expected. He wasn’t sure he did a good job of it.
“It must have been very exciting for you. To be out of your family’s generous patronage for the first time.”
He was probing for information, Bastian knew it. The glint in his dark eyes was too pronounced to miss. Damn it, nobody was even supposed to know he’d been gone - it certainly wasn’t supposed to be common knowledge that he’d been hunting down an errant factor of Lord Silvelle’s, one skimming far too much off the top of the shipments she was supposed to safeguard.
“Quite dull, actually,” was his curt response. Even saying that it was a matter of business seemed too dangerous. Then people would know that Quistley wasn’t taking on his fair share of the family name - that Lord Silvelle had to turn to a Hallix to deal with family matters.
The noble’s brows rose. “Really? Gracious, how unique. Your foster brother, the Heir Silvelle, gave my daughter to understand that it was quite a milestone for you.”
Bastian hardly knew how he responded through the rushing in his ears. Quistley. Of course the information had leaked because of that idiot young man. His daughter, he’d mentioned - probably trying to flirt, to win some young woman’s favor, just as usual.
If Lord Silvelle heard the gossip, it wasn’t Quistley that was going to get in trouble.
Bastian bowed out of the conversation as soon as could be called polite, stopped a passing servant to ask if she might know where the young Silvelle was, and headed to the gardens with a quick step, doing his absolute best to hold back the simmering heat in his chest as he went.