[ He takes the letter with careful fingertips, pinching the creases delicately. He smiles down at it with an expression that's as wondering as it is fond. And then he turns the same expression up at Bastien, because - He'd never have had the courage for this without him. Without his pressing, without his love. He leans in and kisses him, then, lightly, without commentary; then he pulls back and considers the question. ]

I didn't really think about it.

[ Something almost embarrassing to admit to Bastien, who might well be someone nourished on dreams. His beloved might be able to forgo food, drink, and sleep, if he has ambitions to sustain him. ]

There was only one path open to me, really. Inherit the estate. Become its administrator. So there wasn't any point in imagining something different.