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In a warm glow of a fire he notices a flicker of gold. Quite a dancer, he thinks, a reminder of what Ionia seemed to had tamed. And now Ionia offers him a handsome amount for taking the boy off the stage.
Barely a stage it is though, a chunk of wood in the filth of rotten tavern. This kind of beauty deserves better.
With a flicker in the eye he stands up, approaching he invites the other to a dance.
Guess you like challenges, huh? You gonna remember this one, baby - feathers shine as he speaks, melody of magic audible in his voice. He feels strong, clawed hands wrapping him in a tight embrace. Oh, I'm sure I will - he replies with a small smile on his lips. Their hips meet as the music starts. Violent but graceful movements are followed by refined and precised ones, golden dust left behind every turn.
He doesn't notice when the air between them changes, he has no idea when people start to leave. He's enthralled by the music, though last minstrel left quite a while ago. When they reach their end, he feels no strength in his limbs. Letting the man make their last bow, holding him in his arms, he sees. Scarlet swirls around them, marks left by his stained golden cape, a painting on the floor.
You possess a great talent, don't ever leave the stage. - words whispered in secret seal this short-term love that sparked between an artist and his latest masterpiece.