[He rolls his eyes, but there's a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. He pours himself a drink, and shrugs. One for the road. One last toast between them.]
Trust me, it looks much better now.
[There are a thousand things he could say about it. How bringing Cassel there is the sort of gesture he has only ever made for one other person. How showing him the chapel where his parents are buried, where his other mother died, will be more painful than being poisoned. How standing there with a young man that could have been him, with someone he thinks of as a son - or what he imagines a father must think of a son, mostly annoyed, partially proud, fond throughout - will be something he never, ever expected to do.
He's going to miss Cassel quite a lot.]
To your health. [He lifts the shot glass, and downs it in one go.]
spam
Trust me, it looks much better now.
[There are a thousand things he could say about it. How bringing Cassel there is the sort of gesture he has only ever made for one other person. How showing him the chapel where his parents are buried, where his other mother died, will be more painful than being poisoned. How standing there with a young man that could have been him, with someone he thinks of as a son - or what he imagines a father must think of a son, mostly annoyed, partially proud, fond throughout - will be something he never, ever expected to do.
He's going to miss Cassel quite a lot.]
To your health. [He lifts the shot glass, and downs it in one go.]