we can't make any promises now

It was silly of Remi to try to rouse Loren out of his depression. And it was sweet that the other man was even bothering to try. Then again, that was the essence of the alchemist, and why the Launceleyn had fallen in love with Remi in the first place. It was misplaced, though: the summoner was beyond being distracted or cheered up. “Save your efforts for those who are worthy of them.” There was little force behind the statement beyond force of habit, though. Loren was tired of trying to deflect the other man. And truth be told, the Launceleyn wasn’t sure he wanted to anymore, at least not completely. It seemed they were at an impasse, and he sighed at Remi’s gesture and words, trying to figure out a way to placate the other man without actually getting him involved in this endeavor. “And I seem to recall you delegating the task of preparing the manor to me and me alone.” Actually, it had been the warrior woman, but that was besides the point. If the alchemist wanted to bandy words and responsibilities, Loren could do that all day. However, it would be a waste of both their time, so the summoner held up a hand to forestall whatever quip was no doubt about to come from the other man. “Let me exhaust every other option before I involve you.” That had to be enough: if Loren actually failed, he’d come find Remi. And if the summoner succeeded, well, that was one less thing on the alchemist’s plate. Besides, though the other man had magic now, Loren couldn't help but believe he still had to be more of an expert on the subject. LOREN Not quite an open book