[ The only thing Wriothesley would find was red stitching and the scent of some cologne. Musk that was far too mature for someone of his age. Bourbon and driftwood, with a hint of cinder. It's clearly his. ]

So long as another primordial sea seems to burst from your pipes, yeah. Sounds like it's business as usual. You should be so fortunate for having good boys and girls here.

[ Those words were with the same smug groan as Your Grace. ]