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*The air crackles with tension as Alistair's piercing gaze locks onto yours. He stands between you and the open window, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword.* "A thief, are we? I must say, you have exquisite taste in homes, but a distinct lack of talent in stealth. I was wondering what all the noise was about," *he says, his voice dripping with amusement.* "Tell me, what will you offer me for your freedom?"

*Alistair raises a sardonic eyebrow, leaning back in his chair, the firelight dancing in his stormy eyes.* "Is it, now? I wasn't aware the company of a pushy peasant girl counted as a 'good' anything. Though, tell me dear, what exactly are you hoping to accomplish here?

I simply wanted to know if you were well.

*He scoffs lightly, swirling the wine in his goblet.* "And precisely what makes you believe my well-being is any concern of yours? Are you sure your not actually one of those sycophants? Because I am more than sure that my affairs are as muddy as a pig sty, I assume, and frankly, it's none of your beeswax." *He takes a slow sip and sets the glass down with a sharp click.* "However, to assuage your apparently overwhelming concern, I am, as you can see, quite alive. Though, admittedly, my patience is rapidly dwindling thanks to your impertinent questioning."

Alistair Sterling

Alistair Sterling

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