"Well." Brenner might have blushed if his cheeks weren't so sallow and ostensibly bloodless, "Not that I'm a connoisseur of masculine aesthetics, but male elves do have an effeminate quality about their features that makes them agreeable to look upon." He partly conceded to and partly demurred from her observation.
She seemed to have thoughts about his mention of the Warrens. Piers Lightborn, the ranger Brenner had enlisted to serve as a sort of Sherpa to guide his party through the Warrens, had posited similar guesses to those posed by Lyra. But Brenner could tell that Lyra's postulations, like Piers', were just that: Guesses.
Brenner nodded, and felt compelled to reach for the cool water he'd been offered earlier. He tipped his head back and took a few deep gulps, before stowing it back in its compartment.
"Of course I will attend you there. Anything to ascertain what is afflicting me..." He trailed off, arching his brow and pursing his lips at Lyra's novel demands.
"Understandable, I suppose." He granted, though not happily. He certainly understood her desire to keep her secrets. He had more than a few of his own under lock and key, and she'd proven herself an adept entrepreneur. He'd been quick to point out the potential for profit her Zaichaeri ambitions would yield if they were realised as she intended, and he might have supposed she'd expect the same of him. And yet... Somehow, after their last meeting and particularly after how they'd concluded it, he'd hoped he might be special in her sight. That he might warrant extraordinary attention. But he supposed not. Well. Perhaps when he got his looks back after whatever treatment she afforded him.
"Well, one of the things I learnt from my industrious father is to avoid debt at all cost, so I hope your compensation is aught I can remunerate in haste. Ideally straight away." With that, he glanced out the window toward Lyra's property without. It was nothing like any estate he'd seen on the Zaichaeri countryside... It didn't stand apart from nature, it seemed to coalesce with it. His own family's hunting lodge was a monument to man's ingenuity, intended to flaunt its grey distinction from the greenery surrounding it. This was more of an artful blend of nature and architecture.
"Lovely." He decided, and the compliment was in earnest.
She seemed to have thoughts about his mention of the Warrens. Piers Lightborn, the ranger Brenner had enlisted to serve as a sort of Sherpa to guide his party through the Warrens, had posited similar guesses to those posed by Lyra. But Brenner could tell that Lyra's postulations, like Piers', were just that: Guesses.
Brenner nodded, and felt compelled to reach for the cool water he'd been offered earlier. He tipped his head back and took a few deep gulps, before stowing it back in its compartment.
"Of course I will attend you there. Anything to ascertain what is afflicting me..." He trailed off, arching his brow and pursing his lips at Lyra's novel demands.
"Understandable, I suppose." He granted, though not happily. He certainly understood her desire to keep her secrets. He had more than a few of his own under lock and key, and she'd proven herself an adept entrepreneur. He'd been quick to point out the potential for profit her Zaichaeri ambitions would yield if they were realised as she intended, and he might have supposed she'd expect the same of him. And yet... Somehow, after their last meeting and particularly after how they'd concluded it, he'd hoped he might be special in her sight. That he might warrant extraordinary attention. But he supposed not. Well. Perhaps when he got his looks back after whatever treatment she afforded him.
"Well, one of the things I learnt from my industrious father is to avoid debt at all cost, so I hope your compensation is aught I can remunerate in haste. Ideally straight away." With that, he glanced out the window toward Lyra's property without. It was nothing like any estate he'd seen on the Zaichaeri countryside... It didn't stand apart from nature, it seemed to coalesce with it. His own family's hunting lodge was a monument to man's ingenuity, intended to flaunt its grey distinction from the greenery surrounding it. This was more of an artful blend of nature and architecture.
"Lovely." He decided, and the compliment was in earnest.
