LOREN
Phoebe was giving as good as she got, not that Loren was trying that hard. They’d somehow managed to progress from argumentative to bantering without it seeming completely unnatural. ”Ouch. I will have to find some way to rise above this egregious and completely uncalled for assault upon my character.” He placed a hand on his heart, as if he really was hurt by her statement, though the grin on his lips belied the gesture.When she agreed to send folks his way he nodded gratefully. Then, though, his luck held, which meant that it remained terrible and the healer picked up on his verbal misstep. He paused briefly, trying to rein in the flash of irritation he felt. ”I do.” And he did indeed live there. In a room, even, if not a bedroom. Which would hopefully put an end to that particular line of inquiry, even if his words had come out slightly more short and clipped than he’d intended.
Thankfully they moved on to her own history and apprenticeship, and he took the opportunity to finish the sandwich and the tea. If the conversation continued to stray towards his past, he wanted to be able to get out of there. ”Well, that sounds very impressive. I’m sorry the reward wasn't what you wanted, though.” He genuinely meant that, though given who he was she probably wouldn’t believe that.
Of course Phoebe then had to keep pressing him on his childhood and Loren felt the mask he worse to keep people away snap back into place. No more easy banter or quips from him. ”That’s nice. Lucky for us both, I’m not your patient. Just an uppity noble who barged into your clinic making ridiculous demands and helped you carry some boxes.” He smiled to try and soften the blow of his words, but it had a little bit of an edge to it. That way Launceleyn dragon’s be, and he wasn’t going to open up about his trauma to someone he didn’t know, healer or no healer. Given that he’d barely proven capable of telling people he actually was close to, Phoebe didn’t stand a chance.
A beggar's book
outworths
a noble's blood
