LOREN
Loren had to chuckle as he watched Phoebe struggle not to do a spit-take. It was probably not the nicest response, but it was really, truly comical. However, he smiled kindly at her to let her know that he was laughing with her, not at her. ”Sorry. You alright?” As she spoke about him being fat and happy, he grinned; he had never been either, but it was nice to imagine. ”Sounds splendid. Though I notice you failed to include the crowd of adoring sycophants.” That had always been Neron’s thing more than Loren’s, but the summoner had seen the type.”Well, I come from a big family, so we did need a lot of room. But yes, I agree. It’s...too much.” As always, speaking of his family was treacherous, both because of his fragile emotional state and his unwillingness to reveal too much about himself. ”I’m hoping to fill it, though, so that others might find some shelter that I clearly do not need.” Indeed, he didn’t even sleep in one of the bedrooms. Instead, he’d installed a cot in the kitchen, so that he could be easily found and could get up early to prepare food for everyone.
Not that anyone ever showed up to eat any of it.
As she talked about her upbringing, his eyes grew sad, and he took a sip of tea to hopefully hide the expression from her. ”What was that like?” It was so far from his experiences growing up that he literally couldn’t picture it. Again, though he was cautious not to reveal too much about himself—and his voice came out carefully—he figured he should at least tell her a little bit about himself. ”I grew up on the family compound, at least for most of my childhood.” Most of his teenage years, and his young adulthood, had been spent in Northaven as a farmer, which he’d already told her.
A beggar's book
outworths
a noble's blood
