The first night, Damos had slept in my chamber for his own protection. He took the bed, and I took the floor between him and the door. The second night was for the same reason. I remember what happened distinctly, but yet through the haze of events, it almost felt as though I had been drugged...
After the woman had left Aria Fori, I returned for my room. Venor at some point followed me, emerging once it was safe, to query on what had occured. As I began to recant some of what I'd learned, Damos poked his head in. Venor's arm slung around him in a fond manner. I am not quite sure what the relationship between the two is, but at the time I had figured it was something of a carnal bent.
I advised Damos not to leave the house that evening. News he did not take well and turned, slinking away. Too, I told Venor he ought to bring Damos to his room. But when I said as much, the Magistrate stepped into mine and shut the door. Presumably with the inclination to sleep with me. I refused and sent him away, a rejection he did not take kindly and kicked the door on his way out. Then I retrieved the musician myself. Creating a pallet upon the floor, I slept there the first night, between him and the door, with a blade beneath the pillow. Damos slept in my bed.
Come morning I rose before him, and slipped away for morning business and to discuss with Tza what I knew so far. When I returned, I found him in the kitchen. We had tea, and spoke at length. Small talk. As the cooking staff returned, I led him back to my room. I wanted to get more informationi out of him. He stopped on the thresh over the door, and I pushed him lightly into the room so I had room to close it. The look on his face was strange.
We spoke of this woman and Damos for ahns, who later in my inquisition, I would learn was named Noemi. Still, he seemed to skirt subjects the more I cajoled him. "I am afraid to say anything," he said, insinuating himself into my arms unexpectedly. "Don't be afraid, who would I tell?" was my murmured reply, resting my chin to the top of his head in an empathetic and soothing gesture. The closeness, or maybe it was the smell of his hair, I know not. But it was a strange sensation. Like no other drug I had ever experienced. I suddenly wanted him.
I took the musician to my bed that night. Late into the evening and early into the next morning, I indulged in him. Whether it was absolution or damnation he provided, I will never fully know.
After the woman had left Aria Fori, I returned for my room. Venor at some point followed me, emerging once it was safe, to query on what had occured. As I began to recant some of what I'd learned, Damos poked his head in. Venor's arm slung around him in a fond manner. I am not quite sure what the relationship between the two is, but at the time I had figured it was something of a carnal bent.
I advised Damos not to leave the house that evening. News he did not take well and turned, slinking away. Too, I told Venor he ought to bring Damos to his room. But when I said as much, the Magistrate stepped into mine and shut the door. Presumably with the inclination to sleep with me. I refused and sent him away, a rejection he did not take kindly and kicked the door on his way out. Then I retrieved the musician myself. Creating a pallet upon the floor, I slept there the first night, between him and the door, with a blade beneath the pillow. Damos slept in my bed.
Come morning I rose before him, and slipped away for morning business and to discuss with Tza what I knew so far. When I returned, I found him in the kitchen. We had tea, and spoke at length. Small talk. As the cooking staff returned, I led him back to my room. I wanted to get more informationi out of him. He stopped on the thresh over the door, and I pushed him lightly into the room so I had room to close it. The look on his face was strange.
We spoke of this woman and Damos for ahns, who later in my inquisition, I would learn was named Noemi. Still, he seemed to skirt subjects the more I cajoled him. "I am afraid to say anything," he said, insinuating himself into my arms unexpectedly. "Don't be afraid, who would I tell?" was my murmured reply, resting my chin to the top of his head in an empathetic and soothing gesture. The closeness, or maybe it was the smell of his hair, I know not. But it was a strange sensation. Like no other drug I had ever experienced. I suddenly wanted him.
I took the musician to my bed that night. Late into the evening and early into the next morning, I indulged in him. Whether it was absolution or damnation he provided, I will never fully know.
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