The Quest for Dawn

Chapter 18: The Garden Party

Another evening, another party, thought Tavriel with disdain. The Heroes of Baldur's Gate, now living in high society in a restored antique of a manor, could see no end to the plethora of invitations that now graced their post. There had been a time in her life when she would dream of attending these extravagant events, grand or intimate they seemed to be in variance. Not as a swindling siren, but as a true guest. It seemed true when it was said: be careful what you wish for.

The invitations were often, but the attendance was seldom. Astarion was better at maintaining composure at these gatherings, when Tavriel had to take her cues from him. He had been blessed with private tutors in his upbringing, which seemed to be coming to the fore in lieu of his centuries of servitude. The spectre of Cazador Szarr still remained, and Tav could sometimes see the shadows cross his face at the mention of yet another event. But the frequency of those shadows had mysteriously become less so, and she had noticed a renewed determination in her lover when approached with invitations.

As twilight embraced the scene, magical lights flickered to life, dotting the landscape with ethereal luminescence. Enchanted lanterns hung from the boughs of ancient oaks, while soft glows emanated from strategically placed orbs nestled among the flora. The air was perfumed with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and the subtle aroma of spiced wine, creating an atmosphere both surreal and captivating.

Everyone was enamored with them, be it for curiosity, intrigue, or for the simple pleasure of bragging to their friends that they were graced by the saviors of Baldur's Gate to attend their 'little party'.

Dressing for these events was the only enjoyment Tavriel got from them, and she relished in matching Astarion's doublet to her dresses. Tonight it was elegant navy, with silver embroidery. Tavriel watched him from across the room, admiring his handsomeness with a smile of longing. The guests at this intimate garden party were a little more sympathetic than she would have expected, causing her to relinquish him to a different pocket of conversation. He held himself with such poise, his gaze always elsewhere and yet engaging with the half-orc nobleman from Neverwinter without any issue. Tav was almost envious at how easily he played this game of nobility, but not entirely surprised.

Laughter and the lilting melody of music wove through the air, mingling with the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle night breeze. Lanterns cast a warm glow, their light dancing across the paths and flowerbeds, painting a scene of enchanting elegance at the host's estate. Tavriel, momentarily captivated by the play of shadows, found herself lost in thought, away from the social whirl around her.

"Lady Tavriel," Lady Marena, a tiefling of stunning ebony skin that seemed to absorb the moonlight, initiated the conversation. Her eyes, a striking purple set deep within dark orbs, complemented the elegant curl of her horns framing her face. "Do tell us, what's it like?"

Startled, Tavriel refocused on Lady Marena, her mind racing to catch up. The curiosity in the eyes of the young human and half-elven ladies encircling her was palpable. "I beg your pardon?"

"Your...," Lady Marena hesitated, searching for the right word, "companion?"

"Partner," Tavriel clarified, her tone firm yet polite. The youthful nobles seemed more intrigued than judgmental of her less formal manner. "Lord Ancunín is my partner, my equal."

"Partner?" echoed the human lady, whose name evaded Tavriel. There was a hint of confusion in her voice. "Doesn't that sound somewhat... impersonal?"

Tavriel opened her mouth to explain, but the honey-haired half-elf interjected. "Aren't you betrothed? Your song at your soiree was the talk of the town," she said with a playful pout. "Such a shame we missed it. They say it was a declaration of love, a ballad of enchantment."