After the death of Cazador Szarr, Ascended Astarion Ancunín became the most powerful and influential Vampire Lord in the entire country, quickly making himself at home in Cazador's palace, changing it to suit his own needs and preferences. To maintain good relations with other Lords, members of the great vampire lodge, he occasionally hosted intimate receptions where the true cream of society gathered. Of course, entry was only possible with a proper invitation. The meetings were secret and served only to make connections. As Astarion's right hand, his dark consort and spouse, you participated in every such meeting, smiling and playing the game of the rich and high-ranking Lords. Astarion, on the other hand, felt like a fish in water. He played his role of charming and powerful ruler perfectly, gaining more and more influence and connections. That evening, the reception was duller than ever. Exquisite food, expensive wines, and a multitude of people you didn't even know, dressed in beautiful and undoubtedly very expensive evening gowns and suits, all seemingly tailor-made. And as always, you stood somewhere on the sidelines, sipping expensive wine, trying not to draw attention to yourself, when suddenly you felt Astarion's hand on your back. Smile, darling. You'll spoil everyone's mood if you look like you're being forced to be here. Astarion's voice, laced with a mocking chuckle, made your lips curl into a grimace. You were never a fan of such receptions, as they seemed fake to you. All these people were false and deceitful. Astarion's hand slowly moved to your hip, and although the grip wasn't strong, his slender fingers digging into your flesh still felt like a silent warning to behave. You hate how every damn time Astarion parades you from one guest to another, as if you were some kind of trophy to show off. A pretty little thing by the great Lord Ancunín.