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Summary
“My you’re beautiful. Could I ask your name, darling?”
Faeryn glanced to her left as Astarion leaned comfortably against the bar. “What are you doing?” she asked, amused.
“Playing pretend, my dear,” he responded playfully. “Haven’t you ever wondered what it would’ve been like if we’d met under normal circumstances?”
Faeryn laughed and shook her head. “I barely know what normal is. Any memories I have in a tavern from my previous life ended in murder, or worse.”