He's left Edmund blotchy in the face by getting up in his space, and Ienzo can see the way his chest rises and falls, which wasn't really what he'd intended. Aeleus, in a too-late effort and nudging him towards something resembling ethics, had made him swear off bullying unless it was in the defense of someone weaker... obviously no one else here to stand up for, but himself and the legacy of his family's heirlooms.
That, perhaps, was the story worth sharing the vigorous indignities of, as a test to see if this boy could be trusted.
His expression softens to something a wee bit apologetic, until Edmund's brittle reply leaves him arching a brow. Bit young, for a drunkard. Then again, Ienzo's a been a bit young for a lot of things, and there's nothing he hates more than snaring himself in hypocrisies.
"Awhile since what?" There's a hint of guardedness there, too- if Edmund has any inkling of the sorts of arrangements a cadamite is familiar with, he's certainly not entitled to a taste of it, on the relatively equal footing that they are.
But he tames back that urge to build a wall where he has no foothoolds, shoulders dropping.
"I might know of a certain cupboard." He offers, voice low. Braig made a ferreting thief of him early on, and his Senior's set of lockpicks was one of their parting gifts. "Professor Wilkes is off to visit his mam for the weekend, and he keeps a stash of her homemade shrubs there, if you really must tipple off the cold."
no subject
That, perhaps, was the story worth sharing the vigorous indignities of, as a test to see if this boy could be trusted.
His expression softens to something a wee bit apologetic, until Edmund's brittle reply leaves him arching a brow. Bit young, for a drunkard. Then again, Ienzo's a been a bit young for a lot of things, and there's nothing he hates more than snaring himself in hypocrisies.
"Awhile since what?" There's a hint of guardedness there, too- if Edmund has any inkling of the sorts of arrangements a cadamite is familiar with, he's certainly not entitled to a taste of it, on the relatively equal footing that they are.
But he tames back that urge to build a wall where he has no foothoolds, shoulders dropping.
"I might know of a certain cupboard." He offers, voice low. Braig made a ferreting thief of him early on, and his Senior's set of lockpicks was one of their parting gifts. "Professor Wilkes is off to visit his mam for the weekend, and he keeps a stash of her homemade shrubs there, if you really must tipple off the cold."