"To what shall we drink, Drake?" Emma asked as she smiled at him over the table from her seat in the armchair.

Tim held his own glass up, sitting on the sofa across the table from her. "To new beginnings?" he suggested.

"To new beginnings," she echoed, leaning forward to clink his glass lightly. She brought the glass to her ten-point-two lips and tilted it up a little, pouring some of the purple wine into her mouth. "Mmm, this is quite nice," she said as she stared at her glass in admiration.

"It really is," he said, watching her over the top of his own glass, which contained a strong, eight-point-one grape wine. Sort of amazed she can even drink something this strong. If she was drinking for a while before I showed up, she's either got a crazy tolerance, or she's using magic to stay sober like I did. "So what have you been doing while you've been here, Emma?" he asked after a moment. "I haven't seen you since we ate together that time."

She drew in a lengthy breath and let it out swiftly before turning her attention back to him. "I've been studying," she said in a tired tone, "though the idea of it seems nonsensical in such a place." She took another sip of her wine.

"Studying?" Tim repeated.

Emma nodded. "You've spotted the book in my quarters, no doubt. Upon arriving in that place, my first act was to perform an investigation of my surroundings, which yielded that small tome. Contained within is a record of every previous competition." She tapped her finger against her glass a few times. "In particular, the events for each competition between previous champions with my role are recorded in some detail. Though it's certainly no guarantee of victory, I've naturally begun to discern patterns which have led various individuals to defeat across the ages, and I've managed to gain some manner of advantage in this way."

He frowned and took a slow sip while he thought. It's a book with details of all the past mental competitions? "Isn't that like…cheating?" he asked.

The woman across from him smiled slyly. "I've not heard of any rule preventing it. Surely you hadn't anticipated that a deity aligned with the aspect of victory would refrain from putting a finger or two on the scale, as it were? You've not yet told me of your own battle yet, I'll note." Her gaze visibly swept over his figure, lingering briefly before returning to meet his eyes. "You seem quite strong to me, Drake. Is it too presumptuous if I imagine you found it to be no great challenge?" She took a longer sip of wine.

"Well," Tim said. I probably need to assume everyone here has Scipio's lie-detecting ability just to be safe. "I don't know about that," he said slowly, "but I didn't get injured at all, I suppose, and I don't think I could've lost." But if I think about it another way now, does that mean Sateus set me up to win no matter what I did? There's no way that's possible, right? I could just as easily have decided not to use a hammer and gotten clobbered in one hit. Rai's definitely strong enough to have managed that.

"Oh my," Emma said, showing an impressed sort of smile as she leaned forward slightly. "And, if you don't mind saying, how've you fared against the others of our group? I've some notion of how warriors feel they must determine their relative strengths upon meeting, though if you'd prefer not to—"

"I don't want to brag," he said with an affected glance down at his glass of wine that he now swirled gently, "but I think it'd be safe to say that we've all learned things from each other after some time sparring together." He raised his drink slowly to his mouth with a small grin like he was trying to avoid belittling the others. I feel like they'd both probably understand the situation even if they heard me saying it.

"That's quite a statement to make," she said, her smile widening some. She took another drink from her glass, which was nearly empty now that he looked more closely.

Tim shrugged, remaining silent for a while to let her draw her conclusions. "It seems like you and Scipio know each other," he said at last. He took another pull from his drink in an attempt to catch up.

The beautiful woman across from him grimaced and reached for the pitcher she'd brought back, refilling her glass a little past the halfway mark. "She's not spoken of me already?" she asked before taking a drink.

Maybe I should've asked for details so I'd have her side to compare against. "I didn't ask," he replied.

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Her eyes dropped to her glass. "How charitable of her, I suppose," she murmured. The room went quiet for a short while, and then she sighed. "The truth of the matter is I'd found myself at odds with her recently over a matter of some small consequence," she said, punctuating the statement with more wine. "As you might imagine, I'm no match for a woman of her capabilities, and so I've lost everything." She took another drink. "As you might further imagine, it's no easy matter to fully relinquish my antipathy towards the one who's taken so much from me, which, I confess, is part of why I'd remained in my quarters rather than venture out with more frequency."

The way she stared down at her wine in a sort of dazed, unfocused manner after unloading statements of such gravitas caught Tim by surprise. Alright, that does sort of explain everything so far. She certainly doesn't seem overly happy now that she's told me. Maybe this is what Ir'alith was picking up on—that she has a grudge with Scipio. They're friends, so obviously she'd side with her friend. "That's not easy to deal with," he said.

"I've no wish for false sympathies," she said with a frown as her head came up. She took another sip of her wine. "I know you've become…entangled with that woman," she said carefully, not meeting his eyes. "I've no wish to request that you—"

"Wait, wait," he interrupted firmly. I imagine I don't have to consider them ever talking to each other now based on all that, do I. And even if they did, I'd halfway imagine that Scipio might play along just to mess with me. "That was… I don't know what that was earlier that you saw, okay? She sort of came onto me really aggressively, and it's just been a one-time thing." He shook his head definitively from side to side. "There's absolutely no entangling one way or another."

Emma stared at him for another extended amount of time, during which her finger rose up and began to slowly trace a path around the lip of her glass. She tilted her head a little. "Truly?"

"Well it's definitely not like there's any sort of feelings involved," he said in a decisive tone.

She looked back down at her glass. "Oh," she said quietly, seeming to be lost in thought. She peeked up at him a couple times over the next minute or so, but the room had sunk into a tense sort of silence that was difficult for either of them to break. "Um," she began some time later, continuing to avoid his gaze, "perhaps I'll overstep my bounds by inquiring, but is… Is there someone you've…" Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips as she clasped the bell of her glass between her palms. "Someone you've got, ah, waiting upon your return, Drake?"

Tim carefully restrained his full grin at the question and her change in composure, giving the silence a moment as he sipped his drink. "Would you be upset if I did?" he asked with a lazy sort of smile.

Emma's head came up, and her eyes widened with slight panic. "No, no, of course I'd not be…" She fumbled with her glass as she attempted to use both hands at once to wave the question away, nearly dumping its remains on herself. "That was a foolish question. Please, let's—"

"No, it's okay," he interrupted in a relaxed tone. "I'm just curious what made you ask."

"Oh, you must think me foolish indeed," she said quietly, averting her gaze as her cheeks flushed. "Parading myself in this dress like some… Some trollop," she said. Her free hand came down to pluck at the neck of her dress, tugging it upwards in futility. "I'd discovered it within a closet in my bedchamber upon returning from my second competition, and I'd thought it'd be so… So daring if I could muster the courage to wear such a thing!" She set her nearly-empty glass of wine on the table and looked back to him at last. "I'd thought perhaps to…impress," she said, murmuring the last word as her eyes shifted away while her cheeks grew a deeper shade of red.

"And who did you want to impress?" Tim prodded, no longer able to stop his grin from spreading.

Her entire face was now covered in a ten-out-of-ten blush, and she squirmed a little in her seat, refusing to meet his eyes as her fingers played nervously with each other. Abruptly, she stood up, took in a deep breath, and stepped hesitatingly around the table, her eyes darting in to meet his before looking away once more. She sat on his left, with her shoulder touching his. "You must think me foolish, behaving in such a forward manner," she said quietly as she tilted her head up to look at him.

Her tongue came out to moisten her lips again, and they remained slightly parted after. "I'd… I'd thought you incredibly handsome when—mmf!"

He turned to cup her face with one hand and brought his lips gently to hers, feeling a sense of exultation when he tasted the flavor of the wine on her soft lips. Her tongue retreated as he pressed in, gradually accepting and then returning his caresses.

It was a slightly odd kiss; it felt amazing to be kissing Emma like this, but there was also something he couldn't place that brought him out of the sensations after a few seconds. Then she let out a soft moan, and he was drawn back in, his other hand sliding up along her flank as hers stroked his chest. The kiss deepened, and she hooked her hands around his neck, pressing herself against him in a dizzying, disorienting overload of softness and perfume.

They separated after some time, each breathing harder than before. Emma's arms retreated as she pulled back, covering her chest shyly. "I've… I've little experience in such matters, Drake," she said quietly. "I hope not to disapp—mmf." She froze when he captured her lips again, but she softened a moment later, once more returning the kiss with ardor. "Take me to bed, Drake," she whispered as they stared into each others' eyes.