Bad Blood

Chapter 2 - Where Butterfies Go

The cigarette idly stood in her hand as she watched the Boulevard from her balcony. The sun was setting on the horizon enveloping the silhouette of the city into orange and golden. The streets were still crowded with working people rushing to their homes. The creatures of the night hadn't crawled out from their dens yet, it was still the realm of humans. It seemed strange to Solona how pristine the streets seemed under the light of the sun. Come the night, they were filthy. She couldn't shower enough to wash out of it, there wasn't enough perfume that could conceal the reek of it. Everything seemed nicer in daylight, especially from the vantage of her apartment, high above the city. Butterflies were attracted by the light. But it always burned their wings.

She saw a car parking in the driveway, two flags of Orlais attached to the hood. And soon she heard the ring and followed by the door slamming. She walked into her spacious living room hopping down on her canapé, not caring if the robe opened, revealing her black lace lingerie.

She had a relatively huge loft in the center of the Rise, where the millionaire entrepreneurs and the parvenu nobodies like Solona lived. Business went well, everyone could tell. She was so far away from the memories of Kirkwall and Starkhaven.

A bouquet of red roses landed on the coffee table and Evelyn handed a card to her.

"A chauffeur hopped in from the Orlesian Embassy," Evelyn said.

Solona read the card and with a nonchalant move dropped it beside the vase. "I hate red roses," she sighed. "So trite and cheap."

"You'd say that," Evelyn scoffed. "Dare I ask who sent them?"

Solona stumped her cigarette and lit a new one. "Duke Gaspard," she replied as exhaled the smoke. "The gentleman is in town."

Duke Gaspard was everything but a gentleman. He was a drunkard playboy who loved to spend tax money on women like herself. It was fortunate that money and titles could conceal everything.

"What does he want?" Solona cast her glance on the black-haired girl. Zevran liked to keep his investments on a short leash. She always wondered why he felt necessary to assign a bodyguard. Maybe he didn't want another mistake. Damaged goods were worth nothing for the son of a bitch.

"A dinner, "she answered as stood up and poured a shot of whiskey to herself and another one for Evelyn. She needed her a bit less overwatching that night. It was time to take care of her own business. Duke Gaspard was a generous and more importantly a talkative type, especially after he had drunk some alcohol and his primal desires had been satisfied. "And definitely to stick his undersized dick up in my ass."

Evelyn downed the whiskey as if it were water. "So this means you accept his invitation?" she asked curiously and refilled her glass just for herself. Solona stirred the amber liquid in the glass, her answer lingering on her tongue.

"I do," she sighed with a moan of boredom. Evelyn nodded. She headed out the door to inform the chauffeur still waiting on the patio, the crystal glass still held idly in her fingers. Solona went back to the balcony and watched as the last rays disappeared and the people disappeared from the streets to give them to her kind. The crystal glass of whiskey was still in her hand. She poured it on the soil of the ficus standing in the corner.

"Such a waste of a fine whiskey, my love," she heard the soft cattish steps approaching her. A soft lingering touch on her neck, skilled fingers fussing with her stray locks inhaling the scent of them.

"I have dinner with Duke Gaspard, and then go dancing at the Black Pearl," Solona replied, feeling a cold creeping up her arms. She drew the robe together on herself as she turned to the shadow behind her. "I hope you don't mind."