Mela
Skyrim, Solitude, Thalmor Embassy.
Elenwen's party.
To be honest, I detest Elenwen's taste, especially the way she flatters and toasts that Imperial general named Tullius. But it must be admitted that Elenwen's social skills are always superb.
"Lady Mela, please allow me to propose a toast to you."
Elisif, the nominal Imperial ruler, a beautiful puppet. I clink glasses with her and take a sip.
The guard who was originally on duty at the door runs in, leaning in to whisper something in Elenwen's ear.
It seems... the most interesting part of the night has arrived.
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