“The Duchess is doubtless very generous, to have arranged such.” He closes the distance between them and reaches for her, cradling her face. His touch is soft, right now. Gentle. Absolutely not going away at all.

“And yet, having found a greater treasure locked away, I find myself disinterested in lesser jewels.”

She does not actually in any sense contemplate resisting. It wouldn’t work, and it would be humiliating and stupid and probably illegal and he’s being nice, right now, and her heart is hammering too loudly to hear her own very stupid thoughts anyway. She holds still, and lets the warm flushed feeling that might be terror or something else spread from where he’s touching her, and tries to feel special, and mostly succeeds.

"What're you doing in the kitchens?"

       "Well, can't go back to the room, now can I, Issa's fucking some fancy nobleman."

"She isn't." 

        "She is."

                 "Which one?"

        "I can't tell the fancy noblemen apart, can you?"

"She's not even that pretty."

        "Men don't really care about that, you know. For who they'll take to parties, sure, but -"

                  "She's getting above herself. You know, the Duchess asked her about one of the laws, and she wouldn't stop bragging -"

                                 " - turned me down, you know, and I'm no nobleman but I wasn't thinking to run out on her either."

        "Stupid whore."

"Ser Cansellarion, could we speak a moment?", Jilia says, intercepting him short of another barely-twenty girl being aimed into his path. Her tone is... halfway between 'I have someone to introduce you to' and 'very serious matters of state'. For reasons.