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Her expression changed somewhat when he mentioned that he would be more than happy to spar with her. It took him several moments to realize what that look in her eyes even was, and even then he hadn’t fully grasped what she was so fascinated by until she touched him. The pad of her thumb was soft as it traced the indentation in his cheek, but there was a bit of roughness along the finger itself, likely from holding a sword. The slightest shiver raced through him at the difference in sensation.
“I quite like that. I hope I get to see more of it in the future.”
If she kept touching him that way--with such tender reverence--she could see it as often as she liked. “I think you may just get your wish.”
He’d used that dimple to get out of trouble before. Not with his parents--they’d never been involved in his life enough growing up to care what he did--but with his governess and the servants. He’d had certainly gotten his comeuppance for that, though. While Edwin’s own smile was a bit crooked and only brought out one such indentation, Addie had been blessed with two.
He expressed his surprise at her willingness to return to that tavern, and she grinned. “I wouldn’t mind hearing you up there singing again, but I certainly don’t think we need to inflict my singing voice on anymore people.”
Edwin narrowed his eyes at her, though his smile remained in place. “Since you’ve only said any more people, I can assume that doesn’t apply to me, as I’ve already heard your singing voice.” He winked at her. “As for my own singing, I’m terribly shy and I absolutely loathe performing, but I suppose I could serenade you sometime.”
The grin he gave her was a bit wicked. She’d know that statement to be false even if she knew nothing else about him.
But that confidence that aided him in making such comments could not last forever, apparently. It fled as soon as he started thinking of a next time that didn’t involve them meeting at some mutually agreed upon public place.
For her part, Aveline seemed to take it in stride, leaning forward a bit before she said, “I’ll show you another entrance to the barracks when you leave. You won’t have to go through the Keep itself, though, yes, a little prior notification will help. It won’t get you as many odd looks, and likely keep rumors from flying too much among my subordinates.”
“So long as this entrance isn’t accessible only from the sewers, I’ll take it,” he said, that nervousness easing.
“I am curious, and please know that you don’t have to answer this, but what life did you lead before that you had such an education? I have guesses, but it’s not fair to make assumptions. And if you don’t want me to pry I will respect that.”
Ah. Well. He supposed that question had to come eventually. And it didn’t send him into as much of a scrambling panic as he thought it might. He’d been telling her bits and pieces of his past from… the moment they’d met, practically. It was a curious thing to realize, though sitting here with her now he could hardly feel bad about it.
And the truth was--if Edwin allowed himself to be completely honest about it--he likely would tell her everything at some point. If he was ever going to tell anyone, he had the sense it would be her.
It was that thought that led him to be rather honest now. “I can tell you some of it, for now,” he said softly. “I think the rest will come in time. It’s… Well, I suspect you already know it’s complicated. And difficult. And not something I’ve talked openly about with anyone who didn’t already know.” Even then. Varric knew a great deal, but he didn’t know everything. Drawing in a breath, he leaned into her touch. “I was the eldest son of a wealthy family. My father’s ambitions for me were very high, and so I was given the best tutors money could buy. Language, art, history, the ins and outs of managing an estate, and a bit of martial skill thrown in for good measure. I was raised to be a gentleman, and you can see how well that turned out.”
He grinned at that, the comment more complimentary than self-deprecating. He hardly wanted to turn out as Sterling had. Entitled. Useless. Utterly devoid of personality. If nothing else, the life he’d been thrown into had ensured he would never fit into Hightown’s polite society again.
“I think I’ve failed to meet every one of my father’s ambitions for me, actually, which I rather consider a badge of honor.” And Rupert Orland was dead now, so it hardly mattered. “But I do still remember most of what I was taught. Everything that wasn’t excessively boring, at least.”
Edwin gave her time to process that information and make of it what she would. As intelligent as she was, he knew she would put together more pieces than what he was explicitly saying. Somehow that was easier than just saying it outright. For now, at least.
“Was your father the one who taught you the sword? And… you don’t have to answer, either, if that wasn’t clear. I know it must be difficult.”
She obviously adored her father, and while it wasn’t something Edwin could directly relate to, it wasn’t hard to empathize.
“I quite like that. I hope I get to see more of it in the future.”
If she kept touching him that way--with such tender reverence--she could see it as often as she liked. “I think you may just get your wish.”
He’d used that dimple to get out of trouble before. Not with his parents--they’d never been involved in his life enough growing up to care what he did--but with his governess and the servants. He’d had certainly gotten his comeuppance for that, though. While Edwin’s own smile was a bit crooked and only brought out one such indentation, Addie had been blessed with two.
He expressed his surprise at her willingness to return to that tavern, and she grinned. “I wouldn’t mind hearing you up there singing again, but I certainly don’t think we need to inflict my singing voice on anymore people.”
Edwin narrowed his eyes at her, though his smile remained in place. “Since you’ve only said any more people, I can assume that doesn’t apply to me, as I’ve already heard your singing voice.” He winked at her. “As for my own singing, I’m terribly shy and I absolutely loathe performing, but I suppose I could serenade you sometime.”
The grin he gave her was a bit wicked. She’d know that statement to be false even if she knew nothing else about him.
But that confidence that aided him in making such comments could not last forever, apparently. It fled as soon as he started thinking of a next time that didn’t involve them meeting at some mutually agreed upon public place.
For her part, Aveline seemed to take it in stride, leaning forward a bit before she said, “I’ll show you another entrance to the barracks when you leave. You won’t have to go through the Keep itself, though, yes, a little prior notification will help. It won’t get you as many odd looks, and likely keep rumors from flying too much among my subordinates.”
“So long as this entrance isn’t accessible only from the sewers, I’ll take it,” he said, that nervousness easing.
“I am curious, and please know that you don’t have to answer this, but what life did you lead before that you had such an education? I have guesses, but it’s not fair to make assumptions. And if you don’t want me to pry I will respect that.”
Ah. Well. He supposed that question had to come eventually. And it didn’t send him into as much of a scrambling panic as he thought it might. He’d been telling her bits and pieces of his past from… the moment they’d met, practically. It was a curious thing to realize, though sitting here with her now he could hardly feel bad about it.
And the truth was--if Edwin allowed himself to be completely honest about it--he likely would tell her everything at some point. If he was ever going to tell anyone, he had the sense it would be her.
It was that thought that led him to be rather honest now. “I can tell you some of it, for now,” he said softly. “I think the rest will come in time. It’s… Well, I suspect you already know it’s complicated. And difficult. And not something I’ve talked openly about with anyone who didn’t already know.” Even then. Varric knew a great deal, but he didn’t know everything. Drawing in a breath, he leaned into her touch. “I was the eldest son of a wealthy family. My father’s ambitions for me were very high, and so I was given the best tutors money could buy. Language, art, history, the ins and outs of managing an estate, and a bit of martial skill thrown in for good measure. I was raised to be a gentleman, and you can see how well that turned out.”
He grinned at that, the comment more complimentary than self-deprecating. He hardly wanted to turn out as Sterling had. Entitled. Useless. Utterly devoid of personality. If nothing else, the life he’d been thrown into had ensured he would never fit into Hightown’s polite society again.
“I think I’ve failed to meet every one of my father’s ambitions for me, actually, which I rather consider a badge of honor.” And Rupert Orland was dead now, so it hardly mattered. “But I do still remember most of what I was taught. Everything that wasn’t excessively boring, at least.”
Edwin gave her time to process that information and make of it what she would. As intelligent as she was, he knew she would put together more pieces than what he was explicitly saying. Somehow that was easier than just saying it outright. For now, at least.
“Was your father the one who taught you the sword? And… you don’t have to answer, either, if that wasn’t clear. I know it must be difficult.”
She obviously adored her father, and while it wasn’t something Edwin could directly relate to, it wasn’t hard to empathize.