we dont care what them

Gilmore brings Vax to an imperial party as his date. The opportunity to ogle each other in fancy clothes is great, but some of the haughty elven guests are... less great.

he almost misses it. He’s distracted, trading cheek kisses with an emissary from Vasselheim, and hardly notices the way Vax’s back tenses under his hand. And Vax’s words are unfailingly polite, the model of respectability.

But that’s what catches him. It’s too polished, too proper – too perfect. And while Gilmore is of the opinion that everything Vax does is perfect, his roughness around the edges is one of his many charms. With a quick nod, Gilmore pulls away from the Vasselheim guest slightly faster than would be considered polite, turning to see who could be having such an effect on his partner.

As soon as he sees her, he understands. “Ah, my lady Salaria,” Gilmore says, squeezing Vax’s hip. “How is Syngorn of late?”