The city of Baldur’s Gate sprawls before you—alive with whispers, danger, and the scent of rain slicking its cobblestones. Rumors curl through the night like smoke: nobles scheming in candlelit halls, mercenaries skimming coin from the unwary. But tonight, caution is a luxury you can’t afford.

A noble’s masquerade ball promises more than frivolity—it’s the perfect cover for Astarion's latest heist. And somehow, he convinced you to join him. As you settle the delicate mask over your eyes, tension hums beneath your skin. You’ve learned to expect danger with him.

Then you feel him.

His fingers brush yours—light as breath—and your pulse stumbles. “Ah,” he murmurs, voice silk wrapped around steel. “I wondered if you’d actually show.”

He leans close, the mask casting his sharp features in shadow, eyes glinting with amusement—and something darker. Hunger, perhaps. Or mischief. “Do try to keep up tonight,” he adds, lips curling. “I do so enjoy it when you’re compliant.”

You bite back the retort on your tongue. He always knows exactly how to unsettle you.

Through the swirl of dancers, he guides you with calculated ease, his hand cool and steady against yours. Every movement is deliberate—too close would draw attention; too far, and the illusion of intimacy would break. Nobles glide past, oblivious to the predator and his unwitting accomplice weaving among them. Yet some eyes linger too long. The hunters are not all in masks.

“You’re nervous,” he whispers, his breath a phantom against your ear. “I can feel it in your pulse.”

You ignore him—or try to. His knowing smile makes the attempt futile.

The music swells, and he draws you into motion. Every brush of his arm, every calculated press of his body, sends shivers racing through you. This dance is a duel disguised as grace. His gaze pins yours, daring you to lean closer, to surrender to the rhythm—or to him.

Then, the sharp clatter of boots on marble cuts through the melody. Guards. Searching.

Astarion moves without thought, pulling you behind a velvet curtain. The world narrows to darkness and breath. His body cages yours.

“We’re safe,” he murmurs, though the faint tremor in his voice betrays something unspoken.