[ He can, that's the part that sucks. There's no escaping that. This was his domain. When he's goaded to be good – a good boy – it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up and for a brief second, his stomach tightens. ]
Always for you, Your Grace.
[ Two can play that game. The boy turns, off towards the exit with a dismissive hand. There's nothing else to say, is there? May as well not linger... should go shower. ]
330. Don't forget.
[ He pantomimes closing a book, not even looking back to see if Wriothesley pieced the two together. ]
no subject
Always for you, Your Grace.
[ Two can play that game. The boy turns, off towards the exit with a dismissive hand. There's nothing else to say, is there? May as well not linger... should go shower. ]
330. Don't forget.
[ He pantomimes closing a book, not even looking back to see if Wriothesley pieced the two together. ]