Even if she hadn’t caught him asleep, this balance of undressing still would’ve been so vastly askew between them; he dressed simpler in Thedas than New York, with fewer complicated laces and buttons and wrapped robes, more comfortable styles that he could simply pull on. Even the Armani suit he wore tonight would’ve been easy enough.

Still: this is a production, but one of the most enjoyable he’s ever undertaken.

With those last two stilettoes removed and set down with the boots, Stephen scrutinises her answer. He can honestly say he’s never done this much math in the bedroom. He cocks his head, distracted, pressing an absentminded kiss to Gwenaëlle’s knee as he considers. It was six earlier, but she hadn’t been wearing much more in the way of clothes. So where in the world—

Then a guess, amused: “Was it in your hair?”