• Closed • Sorry for Party Rocking

[Sabine]

Sorry for Party Rocking

Timestamp: 90th of Ashan, 716 – 21st Bell
Location: Andaris Gala and Winery

…this was what rich people did with their time?

Sabine fiddled with the fabric of her chiffon dress and stared down the servant who had handed her a glass of white wine. “You’re telling me that I’m supposed to spit it back out?”

“That’s right, miss.”

“I don’t get to drink it?”

“No, miss. This is a wine tasting.”

Sabine growled, and the servant looked at her in mild alarm. This is dumb, is what it is. She had gone through the trouble of stuffing herself into a navy blue gown, unbraiding and brushing her hair, and making her way to the Andaris Gala… for what? To be surrounded by alcohol that she couldn’t actually drink?

The irony didn’t escape her.


She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and considered how very different her night would have been if Abby hadn’t forced her to cover the Burhan's event. She would have been sitting at The Blacksmith Arms, two beers in, playing cards and decompressing from her day.

But, no. Baroness Octavia Burhan had to have sent a last-minute invitation to the Gazette, hoping for positive words about her soiree, and her manager had to have chosen Sabine as the lucky journalist who got to attend.



Because Ilaren knew there was nothing she enjoyed more than spending her time with Rynmere’s elite.



She tightened her lips and eyed the wealth that hid itself in fancy dresses and vaulted ceilings and decorative floors. It was definitely no Blacksmith Arms. The air of pretension in the room was smothering.

An array of formally dressed staff were positioned around the perimeter of the gala, ready and willing to serve. They stood next to tables covered with red cloth and laden with glasses, open barrels, and bottles of fancy-looking wine that Sabine hadn’t even known existed. Posh guests moved from table to table, murmuring to the staff and each other about the wine on display. Words like “earthy,” “fruity,” and “oaked” were thrown back and forth, and were always received with knowing nods and agreeable smiles.



She had no idea what they were talking about.

Sabine had tried talking to one or two guests about their experience (“Have you been to a wine tasting before? What’s your favourite wine? Who are you wearing?”), but their answers, while polite, had been quick and condescending. Most were interested in vying for favours and talking to each other. To them, she was nothing more than a gnat.



She tugged at her dress – who made this thing so tight – and squinted across the gala. Most of the guests were mingling around the wine or near the long tables filled with food, which meant there were a number of open seats on the opposite side of the room. She debated for approximately zero bits before deciding to sit. She needed - no, she deserved - a break.



Also, her feet hurt.



Heels were a bitch.



Sabine set her sights on an empty table and clutched a near-empty glass of white wine to her chest as she navigated across the increasingly crowded floor. She narrowly dodged the gesticulations of one portly man, only to trip into the shoulder of a gray-haired, hawk-nosed woman.



Wine splashed onto the guest’s embroidered skirt.



“Shit, sorry!”

The older woman shot her a death glare, which Sabine returned two-fold. “It’ll dry,” she added, and looked mournfully at the empty glass.

This was literally the worst.

[Quincy Andaris]

It had taken Quincy the better part of two breaks to get ready.


He was able to walk from place to place much easier, albeit gingerly. His movements were slow and deliberate but he was no longer bedridden or easily tired. The bruising along his body had begun to heal, the marks on his face slowly fading, the darkest of them under one eye being the most visible.


But for the first time in a while, Quincy Andaris was scrubbed clean with smelling soaps, clothed in a fitted, light blue silk shirt, black pants and soft leather boots. Two silver rings decorated his hand, one on his right thumb and the other on his middle finger.


A trial prior, Rafael, Quincy’s mentor and manager of the Gala and Winery had entered the Andaris’ room informing him of the event happening in their establishment. Apparently the older man thought it was time Quincy got out of his room and made an appearance in the real world.


“Besides, ye’ need practice. Appraisers are made not born, boy.”


So the Andaris brother found himself standing inside his own gala, at an event he had no part in organizing, Burhans everywhere. It felt odd being at work but not working, made worst by all the stares he got received as he entered the room. Apparently people had not forgotten the past events made even more common knowledge due to the Gazette.


Rafael at his side, the two made their way to a table, pausing occasionally to politely greeting familiar faces and names as they passed. Quincy deflated into his seat at the table, energy starting to wane slightly, his face a shade whiter than normal. The journey there and then up the flight of stairs had been more taxing than he had anticipated. Rafael nodded politely at passing strangers, casting a sidelong glance at his charge. Concern touched his eyes but he remained silent. Better to distract then address the issue. Instead, he reached for the nearest bottle and turned it over in his hands, recognizing the label.


“Ahh, the Kuwasa. Do you know where it is from?” Rafael arched an eyebrow quizzically at Quincy who seemed to be in a daze. Quincy blinked and then looked up at him. His mind blanked and he sighed.


“No, I don’t know where it is from. Enlighten me.”


Rafael uncorked the bottle and poured a small amount in two wine glasses. Quincy reached for his but before he got close, his hand was swatted away.


“Ow! What was that for?” He snatched his hand back, glowering at Rafael, rubbing the top of his hand ruthfully. There were very few people who could get away with treating the Andaris that way, Rafael being one of the few. He was his uncle, a mentor, a trainer but above all, though Quincy would never admit it, the closest thing to a father figure he would ever have. A man he respected and cherished. And so aside from a complaint, Quincy just looked at him with annoyance. Rafael wagged a finger at him.


“I taught you better than that. What’s rule number one of wine tasting?”


Quincy tried to resist rolling his eyes.


“You tell me massa’.” He knew he should at least try to humor his teacher but the looks he kept receiving were beginning to irk him. He just wanted to drink but knew he’d have to sit through a lecture one way or another. Best to just let Rafael get it all out.


Rafael was in his element, a faint smile traced his lips as he stared at the bottle lovingly.


“There are ten steps to wine tasting, as you should well know.” He gave him a pointed look before continuing. “First, you want to look at its color, especially around the edges.”


Rafael picked up his glass by the stem and tilted it slightly, eyeing the contents critically.


“Tilting it allows you to see the change in color from the center to its edges. The ‘true’ color of the wine lies in the deep center. Pay attention and examine how the color transitions from lighter to darker. Wine tasting starts with the eyes, not the mouth, boy. Note its color, clarity and consistency. Color is more than just knowing if it’s red or white. White wines aren’t really white; they come in hues of gold and yellow. Reds come in variety of reddish hues based on the skin of the grape. The color tells us where the wine came from, what kind of conditions it was grown in and a little about how it will taste.”


Quincy listened, trying to feint disinterest but he listened raptly as Rafael rambled on. He always learned something new when he came to these events. But he was slowly losing interest. His eyes began to wander, drifting around the room watching as guests laughed and chatted away, servants scurrying from table to table replacing full spit buckets for empty ones.


But a sudden commotion caught his attention as a woman clothed in a blue dress did her best to weave through the crowded room, dodging nobles and almost break free only to stumble into a woman, dashing the contents of her wine all over the unfortunate lady. Quincy felt a chuckle escape from his lips as he watched the scenario play out. He craned his next, trying to get a better look. The woman who stumbled into the other had her back to him; her long blonde hair cascading down her back over his blue dress. The only face he could see was the anger scowl of the larger lady.


But as the larger lady brushed past her, Quincy got a glimpse of the brunette haired woman’s face and he blinked in confusion.


‘Was that…?’


“...Sabine?”


Quincy called out over the noise of the party, hoping to catch her attention, half rising from his seat. She was the last person he expected to see today. He half expected her to turn and be someone else, which he wouldn’t mind. Worst case scenario, it was another pretty brunette who had a taste for the finer things in life. Just the kind of woman Quincy liked to surround himself with.

[Sabine]

Was that…?

“…Quincy?”

She shouldn’t have been surprised. She was at the Andaris Gala and Winery, after all. Still, she had half-expected Quincy to have remained bedridden and hidden away from the world for the rest of the season. Yet here he was - fully clothed, minimally bruised, and every bit a nobleman.

Worse, an Andaris nobleman.

…albeit a frustratingly well-dressed Andaris nobleman.

Heads turned and whispers were exchanged as Sabine offered him a wave of acknowledgment and an uncomfortable smile. The clumsy gnat knew a nobleman? Knew that nobleman, the one with the bruised eye, the one who had been viciously attacked? Surely not. Surely, it was all some big misunderstanding.

The hushed opinions were only further reinforced by her hesitation to join the nobleman at his table.

The trials since Sabine had last seen Quincy had been strange, to say the least. She had wanted to leave him behind when she had left his house sixteen trials earlier, but his name and his assault had been haunting her ever since. After her article was published in the Gazette, strangers had come crawling out of the woodwork with bogus claims about who the mystery woman was and why she attacked Quincy and what the Andaris family was really up to.

A small part of her revelled in the knowledge that she wasn’t the only citizen who disliked the city’s namesake House, but the larger part was just tired. Tired of sifting through stories, tired of sorting fact from fiction, tired of being lied to and manipulated and used.

Tired.

She must have hesitated too long. Before she could take a step, a cold hand gripped her elbow and she was pulled face-to-face with Baroness Octavia Burhan.

“Miss Sabrina Quezor, is it?”

Don’t react, just smile. This is your job.

Sabine gritted her teeth into a forced smile, grasped the skirt of her dress, and bent her legs ever-so-slightly into something that just barely resembled a curtsy. “Sabine Qe’azour, actually.”

Octavia waved her hand indifferently. “Sabrina, I came to see how you were doing. It’s quite the event, don’t you agree?”

Did she have a choice? “Yes, Baroness.”

“It’s just so lovely that the Rynmere Gazette could send one of their little journalists to our wine tasting.” Octavia touched the gold locket that hung around her neck. “It must have been difficult to find a gown on such short notice. I assume the seamstress had to rush through the one you’re wearing?”

This woman was going to be the death of her.

“Anyhoo,” Octavia continued, unconcerned by Sabine’s silence. “Who have you talked to so far? Were you able to speak with my sister, Raakel? She always has such nice things to say about these parties. Oh, you didn’t talk to Veljorn, did you? He’s still bitter over the death of his daughter. He’ll be completely biased. And the Gazette can’t be biased, right? It only writes the truth?” Here, she fixed Sabine with a stern look.

“Yes, Baroness. Look, I-“

“Good, good. Sabrina, do make sure one of the servants explains the wines to you. There are subtle differences between them, you know. Many aren’t even from Rynmere. I assume you’ve never left the region? Such a shame. There are so many wonderful places to visit, if you avoid the wars, of course. I-”

“Apologies, Baroness,” Sabine interrupted. “I believe Lord Quincy Andaris summoned me, and I wouldn’t want to spoil his review of your event by keeping him waiting.”

She regretted her earlier hesitation to join him; it had turned out to be the easiest decision of her night.

Baroness Octavia raised an eyebrow, but nodded in agreement. “Yes, of course, Sabrina. Please go ahead. Do give Lord Quincy my regards.”

Sabine, unable to stomach another curtsy, tilted her head in what she hoped was gracious agreement.

She needn’t have bothered. The Baroness had already moved right along to the next guest.

There were only a few nobles left to dodge as Sabine weaved her way towards Quincy. She struggled to wipe the blend of relief and irritation from her face in order to maintain an impassive expression, but the tension remained in her shoulders and her neck and her gait as she approached.

“Quinc- My Lord. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.” She wasn’t even lying. His was the friendliest face in the room, as far as she was concerned. Sabine slid into the chair to his right without any further formalities, placed her empty glass on the table, and smoothed the skirt of her navy gown.

An unexpected self-consciousness washed over her, along with the realization that she was firmly in Quincy’s territory this time. Sure, they’d met at his house before, but he’d been injured and she’d been so angry going into the interview that any discomfort she might have felt had been quickly overridden. But now, in the Gala, she felt so far out of her element that she hardly knew where to place her hands or how to cross her legs.

The sobriety certainly didn’t help.

She eyed the bottle of wine on the table before looking hopefully between Quincy and his white-bearded companion. “Please tell me that wine is for drinking.”

[Quincy Andaris]

An odd sensation came over the nobleman as she turned and spoke his name. He felt slightly…lighter as though her being there made him feel…happy? Quincy paused a moment to reflect upon the confusing emotion. He had only seen her once, why would her appearance make him feel any different than normal?


‘Thoughts for another day, perhaps.’


Quincy allowed a lackadaisical grin to creep across his face as he made eye contact with her, enjoying the slightly startled look that crossed her face when she saw him. The uncomfortable wave and small smile she gave him brought a chuckle to his lips, lightening his mood considerately.


He was about to gesture her over when she didn’t join him but stopped as he noticed a woman grab her arm and strike up conversation. Quincy didn’t realize he was staring until Rafael coughed lightly. The Andaris blinked and shook his head slightly before looking at the white haired man. A barely concealed smirk hovered on his mentor’s face. Quincy scowled at him, his tone clipped.


“What.”


Rafael just shrugged, blinking slowly, that annoying smile still on his face.


“I’m seeming ta' think you have a strong interest in that woman, hmm?”


Quincy recoiled as if struck and spluttered almost incoherently.


“What I- no I- You-“ he stopped, closing his eyes for a moment and took a calming deep breath, finally managing to collect himself. He exhaled loudly and shot his teacher a sharp look. “Rafael- don’t be ridiculous. She’s just a journalist who came to my home. We bantered awhile, nothing more. Now wipe that stupid smile off your face, she’s coming over.”


His attention shifted from the man to the woman as she made her way to their table. He graced her with a small nod, a wide grin on his face as he gestured nonchalantly to the open seat next to him.


“Miss Sabine! What a delightful surprise it is to see you here among the fine ladies of Rynmere! Please, do me the honor of joining us. Thank you for your concern, I am feeling oh so much better. A little stiff, as you can imagine. But I couldn’t miss drinking such quality wine that the Burhan’s so generously purchased from me for this tasting. In a way, one could say they are paying me to drink here tonight.”


Quincy smirked at the irony. To host an event at the gala, it was typically more practical for the buyer to purchase wine from the Andaris Winery rather than haul in their own, especially if they did not have their own vineyard. It wasn’t always the case but it happened more frequently than not. It was also considered an informal courtesy to buy from the venue rather than bring in a competitor’s vintage. Certain, unspoken courtesies were made among the nobleman and their business ventures. They weren’t savages after all.


Quincy waited for Sabine to sit before snapping loudly at a passing server to get his attention, his voice demanding. “You, servant. Yes, obviously you. Come here.” The uniformed man swiftly changed courses and halted in front of the table, a look of polite inquiry on his face. “Bring the fine lady an empty glass. And make it snappish! The night waits for no one!”


The servant quickly hurried off and Quincy turned to Sabine, propping one elbow up on the table, silver rings glinting in the light, a smile dancing coyly on his lips. He winked impishly at her question.


“Why of course my dear. We shall drink wine fit for kings until the dawn demands we stop!”


He thumped his hand on the table loudly, emphasizing his point. The wine in their glasses splashed slightly at the sudden disturbance, turning heads in their direction. Quincy paid them no mind. He could feel the disapproval in Rafael without even looking at him.


“Lord Quincy, if I may be so bold, you know to properly taste wine drinking it ruins the-“


The Andaris lifted a hand, cutting him off abruptly.


“Shush old man, we have a guest. Where are your manners. If the lady wants to drink until the floor feels as soft as a feathered mattress, then drink we shall!”


“Watch your tongue, boy. Don’t you know noblemen are supposed to be gracious and honoring?”


Quincy snorted but otherwise didn’t respond to the demeaning remark. He waved a hand in the white haired man’s general direction.


“Sabine, this is Rafael, business manager of the gala and winery, my mentor, trainer and otherwise smartass uncle.”


He gave them a few moments to greet each other. The servant finally returned and set the glass down in front of the journalist before bowing once and retreating. Quincy reached for the bottle and poured the white wine into the glass and then reached for his own.


“So Miss Sabine, what brings you to my humble gala on this fine evening?”

[Sabine]

Gods, he was smug.

And she had forgotten how much the man liked to talk. In the palace of pretension, Quincy was the king with his flowery words and grandiose gestures. Everything from the way he greeted her to the way he called for a servant was galling.

But much as he annoyed her, sitting with him still felt oddly refreshing compared to spending an evening with the Burhan crowd. No other noble in the room was quite like him. The others carried themselves with such tedious decorum and formality. They walked the same, talked the same, and played all the same political games. Quincy may have been ostentatious, but at least it didn’t seem borne from a desire to fit in.

Instead, he seemed determined to stand out.

As Quincy thumped the table and caused heads to turn their way, Sabine didn’t know whether to roll her eyes or laugh at his theatrics. She settled for crossing her arms, raising an eyebrow, and allowing her smirk to speak for itself.

A worrisome thought popped into her mind. If she stripped away his Andaris namesake and nobility, she could almost – almost - see herself enjoying his company.

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head imperceptibly. Impossible. She was only here to avoid Octavia Burhan’s unwanted attentions and, hopefully, obtain a much needed drink. Nothing more. In fact, they would probably never see each other again after the wine tasting. She would return to her life in Lowtown, and he would go back to doing… whatever it was nobles did in their spare time. (Plant gardens? Ridicule commoners? Ruin lives?)

She did like his companion, though.

The older man’s rebuke caught her off-guard and drew her back into the conversation. A genuine smile spread across her face, followed by a surprised laugh at Quincy’s flippant introduction.

“Sabine Qe’azour, journalist for the Rynmere Gazette,” she said, and reached out to shake Rafael's waiting hand. “Is it Rafael… Andaris, then?”

“Rafael Valius,” he corrected.

She immediately brightened. “Oh! It’s nice to meet you.” Sabine glanced from Rafael to Quincy and back again. “I didn’t realize Quincy worked at the Gala.” Or had a job.

“Aye. I taught ‘im much of what he knows about wine, but the boy’s a natural.” Pride lined the older man’s words, and he smiled at Quincy with a fondness that made even Sabine’s heart soften.

She cleared her throat uneasily and reached for her now-full glass of wine. Her thoughts were much too treasonous to deal with while sober.

Thankfully, Quincy shifted the conversation before she had time to ruminate. “I would hardly call your gala ‘humble,’” Sabine replied dryly.

“And I’m working, actually. Octavia Burhan asked the Gazette to send a journalist here tonight. Something about wanting the ‘event of the season’ profiled in our next issue.” She shook her head disbelievingly. Nobles. “I’m the sacrificial lamb, so to speak.”

She raised the wine glass to her lips, but made the mistake of looking at Rafael before taking a sip. He was looking at Quincy with something close to disappointment, as if the idea of disregarding the rules of wine tasting physically hurt his soul.

Sabine sighed and set the glass back on the table.

Damn it.

There was a good chance she was going to regret this rare moment of altruism.

“This is my first wine tasting,” she confessed. She set her chin proudly, daring Quincy to mock her. “I’m sure my boss would like me to include a bit of colour to my article, maybe something about the art of tasting wine.” Here, Sabine looked to Rafael. “If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind walking me through the basics?”

[Quincy Andaris]

'Qe’azour? Huh. Definitely never going to bother pronouncing that atrocity. You'd imagine she’d want to get married asap if only to spare herself the trouble of saying that name on the regular…'


Quincy swirled the contents of his wine glass absentmindedly as he waited semi-patiently for the two to finish conversing. He watched as she glanced noticeably from him to his mentor and back to him before she answered. He arched an eyebrow, amused.


“What exactly did you think I do with my day? As enticing as prancing through a flower garden sounds, noblemen do have certain responsibilities, say, running family businesses. Shocking as it may be, we do actually work for a living.”


He winked at her, showing that he was just teasing…slightly. The Andaris listened as Sabine explained her presence at his gala. He couldn’t restrain a disgusted tsk from escaping at the mention of the Burhan but refrained from saying anything as Rafael shot him a look. Quincy ignored it.


“Ahh yes. Octavia. Delightful.” He didn’t bother trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. He lifted his wine glass to his lips and drank, mumbling into it, his words almost incoherent. “She wouldn’t know an event of the season if she was hog tied and drowning in it…”


He was trying to remember why they even let them rent out their gala. Their families weren’t exactly buddy buddy but maybe Rafael thought the event would help smooth out the relationship between them. Quincy could care less. As long as they paid full price, he’d tolerate their presence in his gala.


Rafael shot him another warning look but the Andaris just rolled his eyes. He gestured towards the old man with his glass, still too caught up in his irritation of the Burhan’s to comment on Sabine’s lack of experience of what he assumed was common knowledge.


“Yes, come now ye’ old coot. Indulge us in your wisdom.”


Rafael visibly repressed a sigh directed at Quincy but then turned his attention to Sabine and smiled kindly at her.


“I would love ta’ teach you, my dear. As I was telling Lord Quincy earlier, the first step is ta’ evaluate by sight. It should be about one-third full. First, ye’ want what we call a Straight Angle View, look straight down the glass as the name suggests to get an idea of the depth of color, then hold the glass to the light and then finally give it a tilt, so the wine rolls towards the edges. Those different directions will allow ya’ to see the wine’s complete color range, not just the dark center.”


He demonstrated as he spoke.


“That leads us ta’ the Side View. Which as ye’ can assume is looking through the glass up to the light. That shows you how clear it is. Murky wine means there mighta’ been problems with tis’ fermentation or it t’was unfiltered. A clear wine that shows some sparkle is a good sign.”


He grew more adamant as he spoke, his obvious enjoyment showing through as he spoke.


“Then we have the Tilted View. As we tilt the glass, the wine thins out will give a few clues as to its age and weight. If the color looks pale and watery, the quality of the wine might be bland. For white wines such as this, if it looks tawny of brown it is either an old wine or past its prime and-”


Quincy finally grew fed up with the lesson.


“-and then we drink.” Quincy lifted his glass to his lips and took a large mouthful, ignoring all rules to his trade and swallowed. He sighed contently, “Finally. Thank you Rafael for your lesson, it was more than stimulating, I’m sure. I think Miss Sabine has more than enough information for her article now.”


Rafael’s eyes narrowed at the abrupt interruption, his expression unreadable for a moment. But then he calmly set his wineglass down and rose to his feet. He reached across the table to take the woman’s hand if she offered it and would kiss the top of it.


“It was a pleasure to meet you Miss Sabine, but it’s late for an old man such as myself. I hope you have a fine evening and don’t let Lord Quincy prattle on. Good night to you.” He turned and left, spine stiff as he made his way out of the gala.


Quincy exhaled loudly and grabbed his glass. He drank deeply, draining his glass.


“Finally no more lectures and we can actually DRINK.” He reached for the bottle of wine and poured himself another glass. “So what do you make of this event so far?”

[Sabine]

Sabine raised an eyebrow at Quincy’s reaction to her mention of Octavia Burhan. She didn’t much like the noblewoman either, but she hadn’t expected her tablemate to be quite so obvious about his own distaste. Her expression quickly shifted from surprise to curiousity as she debated whether Quincy was aware of the gossip he had inadvertently shared with her. His companion certainly was, if the warning look Rafael shot the Andaris nobleman was any indication.

The conversation swelled behind her as she tapped a finger thoughtfully against her glass. A rift between the Andaris and Burhan households? It was a scandal that would keep the commoners speculating for seasons, if the Gazette could manage to draw it out long enough. She could already hear Abby’s words: ”Share just enough information to keep the nobles from getting upset and the commoners wanting more.”

Her thoughts were still on the story that she’d stumbled upon when Rafael began his introduction to wine tasting, and it took her a short moment to refocus her attention on the man and the glass before her. Sabine eyed the wine glass – one-third full, the stingy bastards – and attempted to mimic Rafael’s demonstration of the Straight Angle View. She looked straight down into the golden liquid before holding it closer to the candlelight and tilting it towards herself. The wine shot towards the glass’ edge like a storm had hit, instead of the gentle swish that Rafael had requested. She frowned and tried again once the drink had settled, this time with a gentler hand. Her forehead creased with concentration as the wine swirled towards the edge once more, revealing a slightly lighter hue – not exactly the full colour range that had been promised, but neither was it the singular colour that she’d seen the first time.

Good enough.

She straightened the glass and held it back up to the candlelight to show the Side View. The wine seemed clear enough, though she couldn’t quite figure out what Rafael had meant by “sparkle”. Still, there was no time to question as he had soon moved on to the Tilted View. Again, Sabine tilted the glass towards herself and, again, the wine splashed towards the glass’ edge. She straightened the glass to let it settle before trying again, searching for the age and weight of the wine that Rafael was describing.

…it just looks like wine…

Her mouth had opened to admit her confusion to the pair when Quincy interrupted, ending the lesson with a few patronizing words and a large mouthful of wine. Rafael stood and stiffly took his leave after murmuring a few words, earning a small grin from Sabine at his “prattling” comment.

At least she wasn’t the only one who found Quincy’s incessant need to talk more irritant than pleasure.

As Rafael left the table, Sabine tilted her glass in one last attempt to figure out its age before promptly giving up and following Quincy’s lead, downing her own glass in one long swallow. “What do I make of this event?” She glanced around the room, barely hiding her disdain for the evening’s guests. “It’s… certainly something. What do you-”

“Sabrina!”

Sabine’s shoulders stiffened as the all-too-familiar voice interrupted her question.

“Sabrina! Do join me. I have some guests who would like to tell you what a wonderful time they’re having.”

Sabine sighed and shot Quincy a look that came as close to an apology as she could muster. “We may have to continue this another time.” She pushed back her chair and tilted her head towards the bottle of wine with unmistakable envy. “Enjoy your night, Quin- My Lord.”

A few quick steps took her back to the Baroness’ side. “I expect Lord Quincy shared his thoughts on the evening?”

“In detail,” Sabine replied.

Octavia Burhan’s forehead tightened. “Lovely.”

“Baroness… do you mind if I ask you a question? For the story?”

“Of course.”

Sabine was unable to hide the smugness that touched the corners of her lips. “What do you think of Lord Quincy Andaris?”

Abby would have been so proud.

[Pegasus]

Sabine

Points!:

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 5/5
Structure: 5/5

Knowledge:

Appraisal: The colour of wine
Appraisal: Wine: The straight angled view
Appraisal: Wine: The side view
Appraisal: The undertones and taste of wine
Cosmetology: Making one's hair sleek with a brush.
Cosmetology: Chiffon is flattering.
Cosmetology: High heels elongate the calf, lengthen the leg and hurt like hell.
Deception: Faking a smile
Detection: Noting subtleties of colour
Detection: Noting scent before taste
Detection: Spitting liquid allows you to taste it, but not be overpowered by it.
Etiquette: Wine tasting = spit.
Etiquette: The fine art of describing wines
Etiquette: Forcing a smile
Etiquette: Escaping a situation with grace.
Interrogation: Direct questioning
Investigation: Gossip can lead to good stories.
Location: Andaris Winery
NPC: Baroness Octavia Burhan
NPC: Rafael Valius
Politics: Nobility are more interested in their own agenda than your interview
Quincy Andaris: At the wine tasting
Quincy Andaris: Smug
Quincy Andaris: Talks a lot

Loot:

None

Fame:

+5 (attended the event), +3 (talked to lots of "important" people) = +8

Magic:

These points may NOT be used for arcana

Overview:

General comments. Quincy If you return, please do drop me a pm and I'll be happy to help you get your CS up to date and then provide your part of the review.

Story Loved it - really enjoyed this story and the interaction between the two of you was great! I'm so sorry that Quincy wasn't there for the finish, but you ended it well, Sabine. I appreciate not muddying the waters of current day Andaris by giving Octavia's answer, and it still felt like a complete ending. I really enjoyed the rich descriptions and variety of the NPCs. Great work, both of you.
Structure No problems at all.


Please do PM me if you've got any questions or feel I've missed anything!