[ He grins over at Bastien as they make their way down the last of the stairs, coming into the dining area. ]
None of us can forget the cautionary tale of the fourth Theirin king, who lost at the Landsmeet for having been seen scratching a kitten behind the ears.
[ Bastien shoots Byerly a suspicious look, but it’s only after they’ve run the gauntlet of the dining hall—passing hellos here, friendly nods there, a pause to do a quick double act for an old laundress who’s slowly finishing up her meal alone and looks like she could use a laugh—that he says, ]
That isn’t true, about the Landsmeet.
[ He has finally let go of Byerly’s hand to hold a plank of wood that serves as a tray, on one arm, and pile things onto it with the other hand.
His renewed look of suspicion is also a look of interest. Maybe hope. He would prefer for it to be true. ]
[ Tray laden with lunch, he turns to lead the way back out of the dining hall, past the boring tables. They're going outside. And not to the walled-in gardens. All the way outside. ]
—we deserve something perfect.
If we make enough people believe it, that will almost be like it's true.
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How much drugs and sex does it take to surpass loving cats, in Ferelden?
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[ He grins over at Bastien as they make their way down the last of the stairs, coming into the dining area. ]
None of us can forget the cautionary tale of the fourth Theirin king, who lost at the Landsmeet for having been seen scratching a kitten behind the ears.
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That isn’t true, about the Landsmeet.
[ He has finally let go of Byerly’s hand to hold a plank of wood that serves as a tray, on one arm, and pile things onto it with the other hand.
His renewed look of suspicion is also a look of interest. Maybe hope. He would prefer for it to be true. ]
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[ By looks over at Bastien with mournfulness that's mostly playacted but a little genuine, too. ]
It's not. It would be just a little too perfect, wouldn't it?
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[ Tray laden with lunch, he turns to lead the way back out of the dining hall, past the boring tables. They're going outside. And not to the walled-in gardens. All the way outside. ]
—we deserve something perfect.
If we make enough people believe it, that will almost be like it's true.
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History is what we make it. A little evil, but I love it.
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