Astarion sulked through the halls of the Queen’s residence, finally free now that the sun had set. As soon as they had heard that he was in town, as though they already were used to his particular proclivities, the servants had closed all of the shutters in one of the wings of the manor. It was enough so that he could walk around at least a part of the house freely, but he still had to dodge the occasional beams of light that shined through the cracks between the shutters. It was a bit of an annoyance, but he’d faced worse in Cazador’s manor. At least here, he wouldn’t be forced to bring every unknowing soul to their death.
Astarion sighed as he crossed the entrance hall and swung open the large wooden front door. Though there were definitely differences in whatever this new situation was, there were so many familiar rings of his old life. Just when he had grown used to feasting on the blood of anyone they were fighting with, he had once again been relegated to sneaking out in an attempt to hunt down something in the woods. It was a pathetic existence, he realized, but it was still better than being a slave to his cruel master. Whether it was better than dying in the street after the attack from the Gur, he had never been able to decide. What an enormous price to pay for a moment of cowardice.
“Your Grace?” asked a woman’s voice behind him. He spun around to find one of his servants staring at him with a light smile on her face. When his eyes met hers, hers widened as though she saw the violence behind them, but her smile didn’t falter in the slightest. The things that these servants have seen could probably turn the tides of every history book, he realized. The woman cleared her throat lightly. “Is there anything I can help you with? I would be happy to send for the carriage driver.”
Astarion shook his head, unable to keep his eyes from dragging to the woman’s neck. He had probably needed to feed before they ended up in this world, and with all the stress from the day, his need had gotten all the more intense. He had to go now - it wouldn’t serve him well to murder one of the servants on his first day here. They may be discrete about his need for the dark, but he couldn’t imagine they’d be so cavalier about the possibility of death. “No, thank you…” he started, meaning to address her by name, but he realized they hadn’t been introduced. At least, they hadn’t in this lifetime.
“Clara, Your Grace,” she said with a slight curtsey.
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“Clara,” he echoed with a nod of thanks. “No, thank you, I won’t be needing the carriage. I just need a moment to get out of the house.”
“Very well, Your Grace. Shall I send word to Lady Danbury that she should expect your attendance?”
Astarion raised an eyebrow at her, his eyes flicking back to her eyes for a moment before returning to her neck. Gods, he had to get out of here soon. He could hardly fault the staff for being curious - after all, his being here would have flooded them with several unusual requests - but Clara’s insistence on helping him was putting her in danger with every flutter of her heart. “Is there a particular reason why I would be seeking out Lady Danbury?” he asked, trying to put as much malice into his voice as he could.
Clara didn’t so much as flinch. Of course, he’d end up with the consummate professional, he thought. “Lady Danbury always hosts the first ball of the season, and I’m sure she is preparing for tomorrow’s events this evening,” she explained. “Given your closeness with Miss Karlach Danbury, I would have assumed you’d be going there to prep her for her presentation to the Queen tomorrow, and perhaps calm her nerves before the ball itself.”
Ah, that explained it, he thought. “I might stop by,” he started, “but there is no need to draw Lady Danbury from her preparations. For the moment, I am only set to go on a walk through the woods.”
Clara curtseyed again. “Very well, Your Grace. I wish you a pleasant walk.”
Astarion nodded, and though he turned around and walked out the door, he could still feel Clara’s eyes on him. He could hardly blame her - it was like trying to tear your eyes from a lion. But he ignored her as he swept into the night.
The woods were cold, but then again, everything seemed cold to him. There were many things that he missed from his life, but the feeling of warmth seeping into your bones was one of the things he missed the most. But as he broke into a run past the tree line, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the hunt and the potential for the blood he so desperately needed.
His nose pointed him away from the houses, and he followed the near-perfect scent further into the woods. He most likely wouldn’t go to Karlach’s tonight, he thought, but if he caught the deer he was currently chasing, he should have no problem attending the ball tomorrow. The blood of a deer wasn’t as good as the blood of a thinking creature, but unless he found a willing donor here, it didn’t matter. If people started dropping dead around the ton, it would be too suspicious. Unless, he thought passively, he could sneak into the city proper - certainly, there would be a few people that the town wouldn’t miss. But he pulled himself out of that train of thought as he finally sighted the pale brown fur of the deer he’d been following.
Another day, he might chase that desire, especially if things got desperate. For tonight, though, this would be enough. Hopefully.