death incarnate & night triumphant

The weak smile that dances across Lani's lips has his heart seizing, she hardly seemed comfortable around him, her words forced. The newly made Fae woman seemed to be desperately wanting to be anywhere but here, in front of him. The fact she had even called out to him was a miracle in itself, he was certain she would never speak to him again. Truly, the High Lord would have been lucky if she looked at him after their history. Despite it all, he wouldn't apologize for changing her, not truly. The other option would have been Lani with no heartbeat and buried six feet under ground. In his mind, that was unacceptable. Perhaps she would hate him forever, something Andras had come to terms with over the last two years. As he stares at her in open astonishment, he can't help but fiddle with the his sleeves before finally getting himself under control. The whispers engulfing them as the silence drags on for but a moment.

Andras can see the discomfort in Lani, though he couldn't tell if it was because of him or the crowd. Maybe it was both. Something he wouldn't know unless she told him, Andras refusing to encroach in her mind to look. Clearing his throat, he quietly mentions Ida's wellbeing, explaining the task the old woman was preparing for. He's unaware of the turmoil in her mind about who the father of the child is, he does note the lengthy pause after she congratulates him. Accepting the congratulations with a dip of his head, the moment of silence seems to drag on. "We all are, it's the first faerie child born in... well, a long time," he says, a tinge of pride and excitement filling his voice. As he finally falls into his favorite mask, he gestures towards the empty chair before him, asking if she would like to join. He's almost certain she's going to decline and dart off down the street but to his amazement, she accepts. He watches her slip into the wooden chair before him, albeit uncomfortably.

Dark hazel eyes watch her for a long moment before he follows suit, pulling the chair up and blocking the view of the three women behind him. Her response to his question has him conflicted, the fae lord desperately wanting to question her further. Every once in a while, Andras would use that bridge between their minds to check in on her, to make sure she was still alive, but as the months turned to years, he finally pulled back - realizing she was perfectly safe in Willowhaven. Leaning comfortably back into his chair, his gaze draws towards her professional clothing, something he hadn't noticed in the moments of her approach. When she mentions she had been in the city for a couple of weeks, a moment of surprise overtakes him. He hadn't realized, though, it wasn't like he had spent much time in the city as it was, his brooding self occupied with the inner workings of Somnia to make many trips over here.

"Any luck?" He asks, his dark stare following her movements as she pours herself a glass of wine. A blink, the only surprise he would show. Surely she would be running for the hills by now? Once she's finished with the bottle, he reaches for his own glass, holding the stem delicately. Swirling it, once, twice, before lifting it to his lips, he takes a drink, his gaze hardly leaving Lani's as he does so. Her next question has Andras pausing for a moment, before setting the glass down, his arms returning to the armrests. "Busy, the first of the year is always chaotic and the snow, well, it's pretty much blocked one of the trade routes so we are flying most of the product from the city to the port," he explains with a shrug just as the waiter returns, a broad smile on his face as he looks down at them. "Are you still looking at the menu?" he asks them both, hands clasped behind his back.

Andras blinks up at him, realizing he had, in fact, come here for food, "Would you like to join me for dinner?" He asks, his dark gaze traveling back to Lani, fully prepared to pay out now and follow her if she decided to bolt. Andras was hardly going to let her slip through his fingers after only a few moments of conversation... though, he would also let her go if that was what she wished.

Andras Steinhello darling