“That takes some telling,” Ilisidi said, from her seat, her hands braced on her cane. “Some of which we are interested to hear, nandiin.”
“Might there be hot tea?” Cajeiri asked, and added: “For my bodyguard, too?”
“Oh, indeed, your bodyguard?” from his father.
A great deal to tell. A great deal yet to learn, on all sides. Bren held out his tea cup for a second service and drew a deep, long breath as he took the cup back into his hands, a warm and civilized act, no matter the dusty ruin outside.