Deimos had given him little enough to work from in his guesses; Amalia's interest, though, had been a bit easier to read. Perhaps it was just that he knew her better, or that she was more open than this mountain of a man before him, but the interest he and Kiada had noted in the bakery had certainly not waned between then and their appearance in the Sidge Village! The question, then, was if that interest was one-sided, or if Deimos returned it as the baker so richly deserved: to love and be loved in return, to know happiness if romance was what she sought.
There were hints of body language, the barest bones of possibility in single words reluctantly dropped, but Deimos held onto the answer to the bard's subtle questioning with tight-lipped determination. He gave words back with all the graciousness of a miser pinching silver: using one where three might do, holding back even further and offering even less than his slight slip earlier. The bard hid his own sigh at the closing of the doors that had seemed to open so briefly, the shuttering of windows that had only been cracked before.
Still, he raised his basket to ostentatiously admire the designs on it once more as they swaggered past the basket seller, raising his voice perhaps a trifle louder than absolutely necessary for just Deimos to hear. "Excellent craftsmanship, indeed. I'm sure Kiada would love one as well. Perhaps the bird designs she used on her Fiat Lux loaves for decoration?" He hid a smirk as surprised and envious eyes glanced surreptitiously from behind the stall, its short occupant stealing a glance at his lost customers in just the expression he had hoped they might elicit. As they continued to walk he dropped his voice to a quieter tone again, allowing the big man a moment's respite from his badgering over Amalia, but keeping that bolt held in his quiver for a more opportune moment. "How long have you and Kiada known each other?" A simple question for curiosity's sake, actually innocent rather than slyly so this time.
There were hints of body language, the barest bones of possibility in single words reluctantly dropped, but Deimos held onto the answer to the bard's subtle questioning with tight-lipped determination. He gave words back with all the graciousness of a miser pinching silver: using one where three might do, holding back even further and offering even less than his slight slip earlier. The bard hid his own sigh at the closing of the doors that had seemed to open so briefly, the shuttering of windows that had only been cracked before.
Still, he raised his basket to ostentatiously admire the designs on it once more as they swaggered past the basket seller, raising his voice perhaps a trifle louder than absolutely necessary for just Deimos to hear. "Excellent craftsmanship, indeed. I'm sure Kiada would love one as well. Perhaps the bird designs she used on her Fiat Lux loaves for decoration?" He hid a smirk as surprised and envious eyes glanced surreptitiously from behind the stall, its short occupant stealing a glance at his lost customers in just the expression he had hoped they might elicit. As they continued to walk he dropped his voice to a quieter tone again, allowing the big man a moment's respite from his badgering over Amalia, but keeping that bolt held in his quiver for a more opportune moment. "How long have you and Kiada known each other?" A simple question for curiosity's sake, actually innocent rather than slyly so this time.
