Othello's heart had been stolen. He knew that Desdemona had turned down a plethora of fine young men in the past, but the general was nothing if not determined.

And so, he enlisted you to aid him in his wooing. Gifts, letters, whatever it took.

On this particular day, he had instructed you to sneak a gift box to his fair maiden while you were in her company for dinner. A delicate operation, to steal her away from her father for long enough.

You had caught her eye across the table on more than one occasion, and yet Brabantio's prattling had not ceased for even a moment. Perhaps this would be more arduous a task than anticipated.