[ although her own wine is only just past half empty, lliorel extends it to aedan after a moment's consideration. a full goblet is a happy goblet, is it not? or, something. either way, the cellars aren't lacking for their many vintages, so she isn't even remotely concerned with the speed that aedan ploughs through it. so long as he can handle it and doesn't end up nakedly swinging on a rope made of her bed sheets from the the balcony, singing the songs detailing his apparent bawdy exploits. which she doesn't think he will.

she laughs, a short, sharp sound, her face lit with some kind of incredulous, morbid curiosity. ]

And so long as I've not seen a word of it, my blissfully ignorant dignity can remain in tact! [ she pauses, thoughtfully swirling her wine around her goblet a few times before she glances back at aedan from beneath crinkled brows. that she is trying not to continue laughing is fairly obvious. ] I can't decide if I would wish to read it. I'd imagine in some areas it'll be entirely more interesting that my actual life.

[ ... ] I'm sure Varric could find me one.