[ It’s not the most reassuring conversational turn, when Gale had half-hoped someone stronger or cleverer than him might have found the way out already. No matter; he’ll solve this puzzle in time. He always does.

(Except the one that plagues him now, his end delayed by chance abduction and not any skill of his own.) ]

[ with a rueful little smile, ] So was my last lover.

[ Powerful and ancient, what with being an eternal goddess. Ha (please laugh). An intentional confirmation of what Armand may or may not have suspected — reading the love in his eyes plainly, but perhaps doubting one so unremarkable, so frightfully mortal could have caught the eye of the divine.

In his mind, it’s only fair to give a little of himself willingly to one who has done the same (admitting to care the way he doubts Astarion’s maker ever would). ]

All the more reason for the curious among us to work toward an escape that benefits the many, as lascivious or disinterested as they may be.

[ Gale steps closer again, seemingly assured that Armand is a friend, not a foe, at least for the moment. ]

Would you tell me more of your experiences here? [ leaning forward, eagerness barely contained. ] Perhaps while we walk the faire.