Redsand Canyon Always comes at the worst time

He sees her thinking, thinking about what he just said. And holy fuck does he not expect the answer that comes from her mouth. Such a grand opportunity laid out before the Saint, such a grand opportunity indeed. 

She wonders if they truly are star-crossed lovers and, god, he cannot stop the laughter that bubbles up past his lips. Oh, the Grandmaster can be a sweet man, he has charm, but his crassness always rules it out. Oh, and so does the violence. Still, he would shake his head as if he’s entertained but cannot believe this. The male would force yellow eyes to smooth out and gaze upon her softly, a small, borderline sad, smile blooming then. But he’s oh so good of an actor she wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. 

“Darling — my love,” He begins lowly, but dramatically. “do you not… remember me?” 

He feels like he’s in one of those buttery operas. He’s playing with her, but why wouldn’t he? When would Kynareth fucking Deagon ever miss out on an opportunity like this. 

He would begin his next words just as smooth, pained almost. “That pains me to know that you do not remember me.” He comments, trying not to let his malicious joy show through.