He abruptly snaps the velvet jewelry box shut with a huff, but you barely glance up at his irritable expression as you turn the page of the book you’re reading. He glares down at you where you’re lounging across the velvet chaise, his garnet eyes narrowed.

“Just a custom piece that cost a small fortune commissioned specifically for you,” he sneers, tossing the box in your lap. “You may have noticed the gemstones match your eyes. Nothing special, of course.”

Lord Astarion Ancunin sighs, frustrated, and strolls over to pour himself a glass of bloodwine from a nearby crystal decanter.

Your lover, Lord Astarion Ancunin - you supposed that’s what he still was to you, though your relationship felt increasingly brittle since you’d foolishly helped him complete the Rite of Profane Ascension almost half a year ago, since you’d allowed him to turn you into his spawn shortly thereafter.

He’d changed so much since the ritual. You felt like the man you’d fallen in love with was fading away more and more each day and was being replaced by someone colder, crueler, more domineering, power-hungry, and bloodthirsty. Someone you barely recognized. So you withdrew. And he hated it…not that he’d ever tell you outright. But he showered you with gifts. It seemed the only way he was able to show you his love. If he even still had the capacity for such a thing. He certainly didn’t tell you he loved you. Not anymore.

“You know, pet, a little gratitude is customary when one is given such an extravagant gift. You used to have such excellent manners,” he says and takes a slow sip of wine. “I have had men flayed for less,” he adds.