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Summary
Excerpt from Ch. 4:
The group's excited chattering about besieging Cazador's palace died down to a murmur when Tav guided Astarion toward Their tent with a hand on the small of his back. Most had assumed for weeks now that he and Tav had a sexual relationship of the wicked-vampire-seduces-naive-monk variety, but here was deliciously public confirmation of their suspicions.
"Stay with me tonight," Tav said under Their breath. Astarion made sure to tilt his head so it looked like Tav whispering sweet nothings to him. "I think you should keep out of any direct line of sight while there might be more hired thugs lurking about. And if we're in the same tent, I can protect you."
"I'd love to, darling."
"Do you need anything from your tent?"
"Not a thing. I've been dying to wear one of those sets of cozy pajamas you're always wandering around the camp in."
Tav smiled brilliantly. "What's mine is yours."
"Oh, I hope so."
Astarion hustled ahead and lifted the flap of Tav's tent with a gracious flourish to let the monk enter. Then he made deliberate eye contact with each of the judgmental glares aimed at him from across the campfire before stepping inside with a sassy roll of his hips.