Memories from 170 Years Ago
Astarion stared at the person before him, feeling a rare trace of astonishment even within himself.
He had assumed that after countless prey came and went, those names would have long since scattered like withered autumn leaves across the wasteland of his memory, impossible to gather again. Yet at this moment, the name "Sebastian" remained as sharp as if carved in stone, crashing uninvited into his thoughts and stirring up ripples he had long believed dead and buried.
Chapter 155