>>5232133>>5232402>>5232412You accept the preferred drink, giving it a whiff and a sip. The aroma of the blood-red ‘dragonwine’ is… Heady, powerful, at once coppery, earthy and citrusy, and pungently floral. When you swish it about your mouth, it is… Spicy, rich, powerful, and QUIET alcoholic.
You well know your tolerance, or sad lack thereof. As soon as Yosef turns and leans in to whisper instructions to Callaghan, you spit the wine back into your glass as subtly as possible. You’ll have to look for an opportunity to dump it somewhere.
“Mmm, deliciousss,” you lie through a smile.
“I’m glad you like it,” Lord Yosef says, inclining his head.
You are both in a room of his expansive, if somewhat-underutilized, manse. Not his study, this time, but some sort of lounge room. You think you vaguely recognize it… From a memory of Miriam’s, now that you think of it. Yes, yes, you know this place—it was where Miriam last saw Hirschel… And, in her human disguise, your mother. They had been together, that night… For the last time.
“You have a beautiful home,” you say to Lord Yosef, stepping about the room, gravitating to the spot where you saw the two of them standing and speak their hushed words to one another.
“It’s kind of you to say,” the old nobleman says, “but I know it is not well-lived-in. Not anymore. Not since…”
“…Your sson,” you conclude, looking to him. “He musst have been a good sson, to drive you sso profoundly and fierccely, with hiss lossss.”
Yosef leans back, as if slapped, and scowls… But then takes a drink, and rubs his eyes, and the expression passes. Still, he cannot quite meet your ees.
“He was my boy,” he whispers. “My first child, pride and my joy. A delight. Almost half as bright as his sister, ha! Which still made him twice as bright as me. He was strong, too, where it mattered: in his heart, his principles.”