[...Oh. Oh. The twins were usually inseparable, and though sometimes the steward thought a little time apart might be good for them (and also, himself, really) this was something else entirely. This was... forever. Lindir swallows hard, then his voice croaks just slightly when he speaks.]
We leave on the morrow. Will you feast with us tonight?
no subject
We leave on the morrow. Will you feast with us tonight?
[Pause.]
There will be raspberry tarts.