[ Lyney freezes, his hand clasping the corner of his cup to save a brew he finds quite pleasant. It would be a shame.

The moment hangs in the air and he doesn’t say a word for what feels like a century. Tired eyes… marks he can’t hide… wounds on his heart he doesn’t show but Lyney knows they’re there. If he’s an orphan… ]

You know what is in my intake forms, the inmates don’t get that luxury to the Duke.

[ He has to wear his wounds in a different way than Lyney. ]

I don’t see an orphan when I look at you.