How do I say no to those faces? Hmm. It was nearly ten years ago—

[ And he explains, using a storyteller’s flair and more words than I want to write, how they were both sent to the same Duchess’ manor house for the same extravagant party—Bastien as part of the entertainment, Yseult mysterious and beautiful on the arm of a Baron—in pursuit of the same lockbox. How they stumbled upon one another in the search agreed to cooperate, both planning to do no such thing when it came end. A few detours into daring heist shenanigans. Some minor arson that turned significant; the complete destruction of the mansion that year is fairly well-known.

It ends in a standoff, surrounded by fire, with the lockbox in Bastien’s hands and Yseult making the case that its contents would hurt a great number of people in his employer’s possession, but not in hers. ]

And it couldn’t be a lie, because that is the worst lie appeal to a Bard—that people will be hurt. People are always hurt. I let her have it, though, [ is how it ends. ] That is why she likes me so much. I’ve tried telling her it was only because she was so pretty, but she thinks I was doing the right thing.

[ She’s right.

And for some dramatics of his own: ]

Anyway, she ruined my life.