I'm not sure what I was thinking, allowing them both in the same house together. Damos over time I fear fell into a paralyzing dementia. One that robbed him of reason. As his fear, and his paranoia swelled, he became almost child like.
Perhaps it is my fault. Perhaps I was a factor in driving him mad. But nevertheless, when a slave girl showed up at the door of the Diamond Back, Damos had recognized her. He fled up the stairs, but it wasn't until I had taken the letter that I realized why he ran. Apparently the girl was owned by Noemi. I was invited to dinner at the House of Mirth.
By the time I was able to go back upstairs to find my musician, he was long gone. And I, now lacking one pair of robes of concealment. I didn't chase him. I don't chase men. I knew he would leave eventually, I had told him so. Perhaps it was kindest of me to let him go. I am not sure I could protect him anymore. My attentions had been drawn in opposite directions, and for the moment, it was all I could do just to keep myself alive. He didn't take his painting. He didn't even say goodbye.
The house was uncomfortably quiet then. I returned to the parlor to work on my newest creation, a portrait of a familiar Taurentian.
I told myself I wouldn't miss you
But I remembered
What it feels like beside you
I really miss your hair in my face
And the way your innocence tastes
And I think you should know this
You deserve much better than me
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