Ambrosia had reached her limit. The last year had been dull, tedious, devoid of the raging emotions Trystan evoked in her on an almost hourly basis, and though she was not quite done punishing him with her absence - if he had even noticed - she was beginning to see the advantages in having a husband that may have many flaws, but could never be accused of being boring. After the first few months she had started attending more balls than usual; over a year later she was taking almost every invitation she could. (Within reason, naturally.)
This one had been a distinct error in judgement.
Vampires had not been mentioned. Ambrosia hated when things went unmentioned. Admittedly, they weren't actually doing much, and certainly not behaving any worse than any number of other men she could name, but even her husband didn't drink blood. Though she wouldn't put it past Lucius Lestrange to have a crypt as impressive as the one she had stumbled upon whilst taking the air and the opportunity to assess an estate she hadn't frequented before.
There was a shadow next to it, though it belonged to someone amongst the living - or they were as far as she could tell. No book she had ever read had mentioned whether vampires smoked or not but it seemed wildly pointless of them.
"I don't suppose you would be willing to share that?"