we can't make any promises now

Loren listened to Remi’s words, a sad expression lingering on the Launceleyn’s face. “Most of those were virtues in disguise, though.” It came out in a whisper, one he hoped the other man hadn't heard. Too naive was just a symptom of the alchemist’s optimism; too trusting was because he had too large a heart; too weak-willed was just because he wanted everyone to be happy and aimed to please; and morally confused, well, whoever thought that was simply an idiot. However, just because the summoner had always known all that didn’t mean the alchemist did. As Remi kept speaking, Loren turned away, leaning one shoulder on the wall he’d been sitting against earlier, needing the support of the tangible stone propping him up. The librarian had wanted to be that person for the other man. Now he would never get that chance. However, Loren wouldn’t deny Remi his joy, not after how hard fought and won it was. “I-I’m happy for you.” And the summoner was, even as his own heart broke anew. The tall blonde warrior woman—Wessex, Loren reminded himself firmly—was the queen. It was odd, since Ronin was king and yet the two weren’t married, but Northaven had an ever stranger mode of government, so the Launceleyn dismissed it. Still, he tucked away the knowledge of who she was for later. For now, he’d continue letting the alchemist’s words wash over the two of them. Saying anything would probably just confirm to Remi that Loren was, indeed, stubborn (and he was) so he wasn’t going to deny it. The laughter made him flinch again, but luckily his back was still to the other man. The summoner turned, though, when Remi mentioned the Launceleyn being more useful elsewhere. Alright, Loren would take that bait. “Where? Where can my talents be put to better use?” Honestly, he was genuinely curious about the answer. Because until LongNight rolled around the summoner didn’t see how his skills could benefit anyone. LOREN Not quite an open book