(Felix Guilfoyle has never fired a warning shot in his life.)
“Well, don't hurt my feelings,” she starts, a bit arch, and almost immediately can't hold it— “no, Maker, it was. You know, besides everything else, that was a direct order from his lord, and we never...”
Gwenaëlle tries to word it less terribly. Fails: “You don't argue with the knife. Thranduil had it out in Orlais with the Comte.” And he had come back sad and strange and she doesn't like to think about understanding why, so she doesn't, especially not now. He isn't her husband any longer, and her father has been ash for years. The past is the past. “And he didn't try again when my feelings were hurt, so I think you're well in the clear.”
no subject
“Well, don't hurt my feelings,” she starts, a bit arch, and almost immediately can't hold it— “no, Maker, it was. You know, besides everything else, that was a direct order from his lord, and we never...”
Gwenaëlle tries to word it less terribly. Fails: “You don't argue with the knife. Thranduil had it out in Orlais with the Comte.” And he had come back sad and strange and she doesn't like to think about understanding why, so she doesn't, especially not now. He isn't her husband any longer, and her father has been ash for years. The past is the past. “And he didn't try again when my feelings were hurt, so I think you're well in the clear.”
(Shovel talks are for people you see coming.)