[ At the first part, Bastien raises his eyebrows and does a wobbly contemplative nod, willing to at least consider the possibility of letting Byerly make that claim.
At the second, he grins. If not for the table between them and the room full of Kirkwall roughnecks, he might have kissed Byerly on the cheek for that—and it would have been like hitting a briefly-forgotten bruise on a sharp corner, so thank Andraste for the table and the roughnecks.
no subject
At the second, he grins. If not for the table between them and the room full of Kirkwall roughnecks, he might have kissed Byerly on the cheek for that—and it would have been like hitting a briefly-forgotten bruise on a sharp corner, so thank Andraste for the table and the roughnecks.
Instead: ]
I will make us matching bracelets.
[ A threat. ]