(1310-09-30) Of Husbands and Wives
Summary: One lord assists to the other on his drunken evening while a young lady simply listens and observers.
RL Date: 2018/09/30
Related: None
gregoire quintavius inesse 

Port - Marsilikos

Fortune laid the foundation for the grand port of Marsilikos; look how the arms of the land spread wide to embrace the setting of the sun, welcoming a bay of still waters rendered all the more peaceful by the presence of a small island to the south, on the flanks of which the waves cut themselves into powerless ripples as they move in from the sea. But what Fortune gave the D'Angelines their cunning and craft has improved to a hum of efficiency and culture. The natural bay has had its curved shores sharpened into straight edges bolstered with ridges of heavy stones on which the tides have left long mark when the waters are low, algae and barnacles hung onto the rugged stones. Then stone foundations have been piled out into the harbor to hold up wide wooden pillars and the great treated slats of the piers and boardwalks which extend into the bay, now at wider intervals for massive trading vessels, now at shorter intervals for private fishing and pleasure yachts.

The southern arm of the bay is reserved for the great sourthern fleet of the Terre D'Angan Navy, which is headquartered here in Marsilikos, and is ever a hub of activity, the giant slips outfitted to haul the massive warships up into the air for repairs, while further inland on the southern peninsula a forest of masts rises into the air where new ships are being built and old ones repaired in full drydock. Between the naval slips and the drydock rises the stately edifice of the Southern Naval Headquarters, glistening with huge latticed windows on the upper floors. Beyond the headquarters rises the massive fortified promontory of the Citadel, with bleached-white parapets and fluttering banners.

Markets and vendors throng the plaza at the innermost fold of the harbor where civilian and military seamen alike might find a bite to eat, supplies for their next mission, a good drink or a little bit of companionship. Far in the bay, that little isle sports a lofty lighthouse to guide the ships in by night.


It is a cool autumn night. Foot traffic in the area by the docks has reduced considerably and the evening is punctuated only by the occasional small party of inebriated sailors heading back to their respective ships after a good night out, the harsh squawk of a nocturnal seagull, and the scurrying of one or two rats, made brave by the night and rustling among the fragments of crates and detritus which necessarily forms along the edges of the dockside. The moon and stars, and the faint glow from lanterns on board the various bobbing ships and boats are all that light the area, with the exception of a small lantern propped up beside a barrel not far from the (now closed) market, where stands a tall, blond man, apparently scrubbing away at something or other in the cask's murky water, the scratching sound carrying through the clear night air.

<FS3> Inesse rolls Singing: Good Success. (5 3 7 8 3 7)

It's hard to guess what such a young lady as Inesse could do in the Port at such a late hour but she is there. Her pace is slow and thoughtful. Her dress has a design that features solid black on the outside of the dress and a white and black swirl pattern on the front panel. The same swirl pattern is used as an accent trim along the sleeves, the hood, and on either side of the front panel. She also has a cloak over her shoulders and the collar of that cloak is decorated by warm white furs.

Lady Inesse holds the sides of her skirt and sways them as well as keeps the dress raised just enough to reveal her black slippers. She bounces from one stone to the other as if she would be dancing. A wide smile is shining in her features and she sings:

She is, of course, followed by a guard who seems less amused about the late evening walks, dances and songs.

Quintavius glances up at the singing, unconsciously timing his scrubbing to match the beat, and joins in the tune with a soft whistle. It's the guard who gets a nod of solidarity first, however. Yes, he too is aware of how it can be, following around an employer or patron, doing their bidding, when all one really wants is a nice mug of beer and a soft bed to collapse into. "Not lost, are you, my lady?" There's a slight pause before the 'my lady' as though he's weighing up the most likely title for this young thing. The clothes say lady, but the dockside..?

"Oi!" The youngling exclaims when she is addressed. She immediately stops and takes a few steps closer to her guard. "I apologize. I was not aware that someone might be around," she explains and folds her hands in front of herself. She offers a polite curtsy and a bow. "M'lord, I did not mean to interrupt your work. I am not lost. Just taking a stroll. The weather is more fresh in very early mornings and very late evenings. I do enjoy sleeping for long hours. So, I wanted to enjoy a bit of sea wind! It's good for one's health or so I heard." Just in case, she takes another step closer to her guard, now standing completely at his side.

The scrubbing ceases for a bit, brush set down beside the lantern and what appears to be a small rock of sorts being cleaned up set beside it, and Quintavius dries his hands absently down his tunic. "You're not wrong," he agrees amiably. "This is the time of day to be here, as long as you don't mind a bit of roughness from the sailors coming back from the taverns. They say the salt air expands the lungs. Makes you fitter. Less susceptible to disease. Whether that's true or not is another matter, or those people in the interior would be sick all the time, no?"

Inesse smiles broadly and nods, "Exactly! That's exactly what I heard. I have to be fit because I came here with my lady mother and I have to help her. I do not have time or even luxury to get ill!" She explains and the blush creeps up her cheeks. "Forgive, m'lord. I shall not disturb you. You are… cleaning up?.." She sounds mildly confused about exact activity of a man. "My uncle Bernard," she points toward the guard, "Will keep me safe from any of the sailors. But I appreciate your concern. May I… May I be bold to ask your name? I am lady Inesse de Baphinol."

"Some trifles I've found on my journey," Quintavius dismisses, although judging by the care with which he'd been scrubbing they can hardly be considered trifles to him. "Lady Inesse, an honour to meet you. I have the good fortune to be Quintavius de Toluard, lately come from Bordeaux. Lord Bernard, how do you do," he adds to the older gentleman, giving a civil nod. "Your lady mother requires assistance, my lady? Surely she cannot be in her dotage with you so young?"

The guard's eyes grow wide when he is called lord. He opens his mouth to protest, but lady Inesse corrects a new acquaintance herself. "He is no lord, but he has been with me since I was a baby. I simply call him my uncle because that is how I feel about Bernard!" She laughs. "I know how confusing it may be." She then shakes her head at the other part, "My mother is absolutely beautiful and strong, and healthy. But she came here to socialize and throw events. She needs my hand in arranging various festivities. I also have to be strong if I want to impress older and of higher status ladies. I am suppose to become lady-in-waiting. I will turn sixteen next week! But, m'lord, do not make me keep you away from your works." She tiptoes to glance at the treasury of the man's journey, though, before shyly lowering her eyes down. "But I must add that just recently I spoke with another lord regaridng the journeys. As if the destiny itself would be calling me to travel!"

The treasury, such as it is, really is what it appeared to be at first glance. Just a lot of odd shaped rocks. Unless one were to look slightly closer and note the shapes and patterns marked on them. Ammonites, trilobites, rocks with the faint impression of a fern or a scale, it would appear that the gentleman has a taste for fossils. "My lady patron would recommend riding daily," Quintavius suggests, folding his hands neatly behind his back and dipping his head a little. "For strength, but also to take the air, to see the countryside, and to give you a view of what happens outwith the city, my lady. A view you should then be able to bring into your engagement plans, as a refreshing change from the cold stone and carved pillars of the urban life. Perhaps your… uncle Bernard might be amenable to a morning ride, rather than necessarily wandering the docks at night?"

Gregoire comes out of one of the taverns, the door slamming open as he makes his way onto the Pier. His companions that hoped to fleeced the nobleman for finding his pleasure on the docks grumble as the lord laughs at them, "Now, don't be angry with me…you lost that coin fair and square." For a tense moment it looks as if the sailors might try to 'convince' the lord to give their money back. The lord in question is just laughing, not apparently aware of the danger that he is inciting.

Fossils? Inesse does not even fully understand what fossils might be. It's just stones. Why one would be interested to stones? So, the treasure looses her attention to the slamming door instead. She flinches at the sound and then gawks at those sailors and the nobleman. Now she takes another step back to hide behind the back of her guard. "Maybe… Maybe we should go, Bernard? The lord here is right. We shall take walks during the early mornings instead. I will try to wake up earlier!" She looks up and smiles at the man Inesse calls uncle and then her attention goes to the lord Quintavius. But you should also be careful. Spending time alone at this hour might be dangerous, no matter if you are a lady or a lord."

Quintavius absently shifts a hand to the wicked looking knife tucked at the back of his belt, eyes flicking between the sailors, Gregoire, and the young lady and her guard. "As, it would appear, this young gentleman might be about to learn," he murmurs. Straightening, he considers for a split second, then affects a lazy smile and raises his free hand. "Ho, there you are!" he calls over to Gregoire. "We've been waiting for you all night. Sorry, gents," he offers amiably to the sailors, "but I have no doubt the old fool will be back to lose his money again tomorrow night. Have a pleasant journey, won't you?"

At this time of night the angry sailors weren't expecting to find other nobles out on the pier. They pause as Gregoire takes advantage of their distraction to stumble over to the edge of the pier and relieve himself of his last meal over the edge. There's retching, a deep groan and the nobleman turns around to lean heavily on poles, "Now that was graceful." He runs his fingers through his hair and gives a drunken look to the woman that has distracted his enemies. He blinks for it's not a dockside wench that has gained their eye but a young woman with her guard. He gives a flourished bow, "M'lady…" And almost falls over for his try to stick to manners, "Forgive my weaken state. I am a man of many faults." The sailors murmur among themselves, clearly not willing to take on more than a drunken nobleman. They slip back into the tavern to lick their wounds as the young man blinks at the other man, "Waiting for me?" He points to himself, looks around, seemingly confused why this complete stranger is claiming him as friend.

When the other nobleman approaches them and almost stumbles upon trying to offer a polite bow, lady Inesse eyes the man intensively. The moment he is almost falling, Bernard grabs the man and helps him to steady himself. Then lady Inesse shouts out, "I THINK…" She flinches getting scared of her own loud voice. "I think I know him…" She whispers the latter. "Lord Gregoire Basilisque de Baphinol?.." She asks to be confirmed. Her gaze wanted to the older man and she explains. "He is married to the cousin of my father if I am right. I believe he is staying at our residence. We will escort him back to our home. Thank you for a professional distraction!"

Quintavius releases the grip on the knife behind his belt and instead resumes a mask of absolute politeness. "My lord, I apologies for my familiarity. Merely a ruse to indicate to your colleagues that perhaps now is not the time for violence. Lady Inesse, you are really very kind. Would you like assistance? I can't imagine that an extra body in the dark streets would go amiss." he offers, already beginning to put his newly cleaned fossils and brush away into a canvas sack, presumably the one in which he brought them to start with.

Gregoire looks to the man that has suddenly grabbed him, "Thank you kind sir…I was about face plant or something equally embarrassing there." He leans heavily on Bernard, and manages to steady himself. He blinks at Inesse's loud words and then does manage to confirm, "Yes, I amm Lord Gregoire…" He doesn't seem capable of getting out his full name even if he tries in vain for a moment before giving up, "Married to the lovely, beautiful Lady Louna, my wife." He leans forward, putting his finger over his lips as if he's about to tell them a secret, "My wife /hates/ me." He makes a wave of his hand, "Absolutely, one hunder percent, without a doubt would consider a great service if you dumped me over the pier over there." Motions back to where he came from. He gives a half laugh, "Although, it's almost worth it, to see her face, when I arrive back in this state so….carry on." He turns a bleary eye back to Quintavius with a happy drunk smile, "M

Gregoire looks to the man that has suddenly grabbed him, "Thank you kind sir…I was about face plant or something equally embarrassing there." He leans heavily on Bernard, and manages to steady himself. He blinks at Inesse's loud words and then does manage to confirm, "Yes, I amm Lord Gregoire…" He doesn't seem capable of getting out his full name even if he tries in vain for a moment before giving up, "Married to the lovely, beautiful Lady Louna, my wife." He leans forward, putting his finger over his lips as if he's about to tell them a secret, "My wife /hates/ me." He makes a wave of his hand, "Absolutely, one hunder percent, without a doubt would consider a great service if you dumped me over the pier over there." Motions back to where he came from. He gives a half laugh, "Although, it's almost worth it, to see her face, when I arrive back in this state so….carry on." He turns a bleary eye back to Quintavius with a happy drunk smile, "The more the merrier. Come on good man…let us go back to the Baphinol and piss off my wife!"

Inesse says, "No, this is you who is very kind, lord Quintavius. I would very much appreciate your help, if that is not going to be a bother! And you could tell us more about your… fossils? While we are on our way. I am not even sure if I understand what a fossil means!" She chuckles and the blush deepens on her cheeks. In the meantime, Bernard will try to wrap his arm around the drunk lord and assist him in walking towards the direction of a noble district. That is if the lord accepts the help. If not, Bernard will try to force it upon the man. But lady Inesse's smile fades when lord Gregoire speaks further. A girl who is not even sixteen years old turns towards the older lord and then shakes her finger at him, scolding. "You shall not speak like that about your wife. At least not in public, not in front of others. You are drunk now but my lady mother and I will come to have a very serious conversation with you once you will be sober!" She glances back at Quintavius. "Please, scratch it. He doesn't know what he is talking. I apologize that you have to see this.""

"No, this is you who is very kind, lord Quintavius. I would very much appreciate your help, if that is not going to be a bother! And you could tell us more about your… fossils? While we are on our way. I am not even sure if I understand what a fossil means!" She chuckles and the blush deepens on her cheeks. In the meantime, Bernard will try to wrap his arm around the drunk lord and assist him in walking towards the direction of a noble district. That is if the lord accepts the help. If not, Bernard will try to force it upon the man. But lady Inesse's smile fades when lord Gregoire speaks further. A girl who is not even sixteen years old turns towards the older lord and then shakes her finger at him, scolding. "You shall not speak like that about your wife. At least not in public, not in front of others. You are drunk now but my lady mother and I will come to have a very serious conversation with you once you will be sober!" She glances back at Quintavius. "Please, scratch it. He doesn't know what he is talking. I apologize that you have to see this."

There is just the faintest hint of a glint of amusement in Quintavius's eye, his face otherwise a mask of expressionlessness. "I wouldn't dare dream to spread any words spoken in passion, my lady." Not exactly the request, but it's close enough. Gregoire gets a steadying arm from the other side offered, and a quiet query, "I think perhaps, my lord, if my assumptions are correct, that you might like to pause on the way for some water and to tidy up? Women, wives in particular, can be exasperating creatures at the best of times, and if one wants a quiet life it's easiest to slip in unnoticed at night."

Gregoire doesn't fight Bernard's manhandling of him, and lets him move his drunken body where he pleases as they start to leave the docks. Although, the young lady's reaction to his words about his wife causes him to to blink for a moment. He tries in his addled state to think of something to say, because on some level he knows that he's wrong. He gives a shake of her head and then there is almost a morose tone as he tells her, "Ahhh, you are right m'lady. I am a poor husband to speak of my wife in such a way, even if she is a terrible harpy. A lovely, beautiful alluring siren who vexes me at every turn." There is comes out in more his manner than his words, the young lord is drunken state is perhaps some matter of the heart, "It's no wonder. I have terrible manners. I can't prance." He looks at Quintavius, "Yes, I think prance is the word." He gives a little burb as he manages to keep whatever else is in his stomach down, "And yes! Yes! We must wash and get cleaned. She hates it when I smell like the docks." He seems very keen on steathing back to his suite and not disturbing his wife, "Tidy up…" He sniffs his own underarm, "Maybe some soap. Yes, that works."

Inesse sighs and shakes her head when her relative of sorts continues speaking. "Why when men are drunk they can not keep their thoughts for themselves?" She asks quietly. The question is more meant for herself than for the public. It does not require an answer. The girl decides to walk from the side of her guard and not interfere. she doesn't want to speak with drunk people.

Quintavius seems, on the other hand, more than happy to walk and talk with drunk people, offering Gregoire a sidelong glance as they begin to walk, or at least in one case, stagger, in the direction of the noble district. "But otherwise a successful night, my lord? The gaming tables were kind to you? It's when they're unkind that the ladies tend to vex the most, I find. Come, we can stop at my home for a wash and a drink of something less potent. My lady patron always has fine chi'in tea, if you'd like some?"

"A very successful night," Gregoire crows to Quinavius with a laugh, ignoring Inesse's comment on why drunk men can't keep their thoughts to themselves, "I fleeced those poor bastards of their coin." He has a smirk on his lips, "Even three sheets to the wind they were not a match for my skills." He then stumbles a moment over a small dip in the road and manages to hold onto Bernard rather than collapse. Of course this doesn't stop the lord from telling his story, "You see…I've spent my days on the borders, in the mountains. And there's right not much to do besides gamble and…" He's about to say another word but then in a moment of clarity stops himself since they do have a young lady in their presence, "Well…you get what I mean." He seems happy enough to be steered in the direction of Quintavius' manor rather than the direct route home, "Tea?" He gives a sniff, "I suppose so…maybe coffee. I like coffee better." He knows better than to ask for more drink, "Black with a bit of bite to it."

"Not sure if we have coffee, but I'll see what I can find," Quintavius offers dubiously, carefully steering the little party around a pile of vomit on the dockside, then deliberately adjusting their path to avoid an alleyway from which the sounds of grunts and squeals leaves little to the imagination as to the occupation of the couple within. "Which mountains, my lord? The south or the east? I'm a Siovale man myself, and I admit that there's more to offer here in Marsilikos than in the isolation of the mountains of home." A quick glance back towards that alley. "Plenty to offer, by the sounds of things."

"Well a black tea will do in a pinch if you don't have coffee," Gregoire tells him as they continue to stumble along the streets by the docks. He is so far gone, he doesn't notice the vomit on the ground; however, the sounds coming from the alleyway does bring a bit of a smile, "Lucky bastard…" He gets distracted from his musings by Quintavius' question, "Ahh yes, I hail from Camlach, to the east on the border of Skaldia." He frowns at the mention of Marsilikos perhaps being better and shakes his head, "No…not more, just different." He gives a deep sigh and there is a bit of longing, "You could walk outside your tent and not find another scouting party for a day or so. It was quiet, peaceful." He gives the man a look, "You could hear yourself think…not be distracted by all this…" He motions to the various sounds happening around the docks, "Cacophony of men and women…crammed into a tight space on top of one another."

Quintavius doesn't lead them particularly far, his own home being one of the scattering of houses near the port, rather than in the more fashionable noble district. He gives an ornate fish-shaped bell a little ring as they bundle in through the blue painted doors and not into the salon, but directly to the kitchens. "I was just suggesting to Lady Inesse that a ride in the countryside in the mornings is a thing to be savoured here," he suggests, already opening cupboards and setting stoves alight with a practiced hand. Not just a little unusual, given his alleged status, where most noblemen wouldn't even be able to identify the kitchen, let alone know intimately where to find everything needed. "Out of the city, in the fresh air, away from the bustle. And," he adds more pointedly, "away from your wife, perhaps?"

Gregoire allows himself to be led to the little house by the port. He stumbles in with Bernard's help to the kitchens, giving a bemused look as they are in an area of a house this lord never spends time in. He does perk up at the mention of the countryside, "Are there forests? Good hunting grounds? It's been ages since I've taken hounds out and had a bit of hunting." It's clear this lord's perferred domain is hunting from the wistful tone of his voice, "It would make things a bit more bearable." He gives a laugh and then admits to the other lord, "And yes, my wife has interest in hunting so it would be a bit of peace and quiet." He does have to ask as the man starts up the stove, "You know you way around this…" He motions to the stove, "Right? I don't want to be responsible for burning down your home."

"I dabble a little," Quintavius demurs, setting water to boil then reaching to another cupboard to find and lay out a selection of dainty pastries. "There's some hunting, I believe, but it's not really my forte. Plenty of point to point, though? However, if you have an interest in the hunt, perhaps we ought to set one up? There are enough gentlemen in the city who'd appreciate the chance to stretch their talents. Perhaps a few ladies, also," he adds, although his expression remains unconvinced. "Some of the more martial bent."

Gregoire gives a grimace and admits to Quintavius, "Never much took to a sword. I'm more of an axe man myself. And bow. I do love hunting with a bow." He leans on the counter and gives a deep sigh, "And yes, I should perhaps do a hunt, get out there instead of feeling sorry myself." He motions to where their lady companion slipped off to, "Not the best way to meet the inlaws…" He gives a shake of his head and groans at the moment, "Shit me…I drank way too much tonight."

Quintavius takes his time to arrange the tea, one can't hurry these things after all, but in the meantime pours a couple of glasses of something refreshingly cool and citrusy. Offering one to the other man and keeping one for himself, he queries, "Any particular reason for the celebrations, Lord Gregoire? And I shouldn't worry about young Lady Inesse. If she didn't intend to see the harsher side of life, perhaps she shouldn't spend the evening at the dockside?"

"Drowning my sorrows if you must know," Gregoire tells him with a sigh and takes a deep drink of the cool drink provided, "I'm not proud of it, but this…" He makes a motion of his hand, "Is harder than I thought." He looks deeply thoughtful perhaps some of the alcohol is naturally waning in his system, "Louna, my wife, and I were contracted to marry since we were barely out of diapers. I always knew she was to be my wife, even if the few visits we had showed me that we were different as night and day." He takes another sip, his color getting a bit better and he motions for Quintavius to pour him a bit more, "We kept putting things off, on both sides if you must know…it wasn't just me." He shakes his head, "But finally the families insisted so here we are."

Quintavius is willing enough to top up the glass, nodding a little. "Women, my lord. The source of all trouble for mankind since the dawn of time," he sympathises. "Still, at least if you're so wildly different you need not interfere in each others' lives, no? A dutiful visit to the marital bed every now and then, but then the time is your own." He claps the other man on the arm. "I know a score of married men who can only dream of such freedom, without a woman trying to meddle in every part of one's life."

Gregoire sits back in his chair and waves his hands, "See! That's exactly what I thought. I thought we'd be married, have a full kids out of obligation and then we could both go about our business!" He takes a sip of the drink, clearly needing to hydrate himself, "But no…being the stupid ass that I am I have to fall for her. Love her." He closes his eyes and just looks pained, "Damn me and my stupid heart for loving a woman that finds me so…damn lacking."

Quintavius leans back against the counter by the stove, keeping a close eye on the pot as it brews. "Ahh. Then it's worse, my dear fellow." He shakes his head sadly. "A woman in your life is one thing, but one in your heart? It's a sad existence. But come now, I'm sure you can't be as lacking as you make out. You've a fair countenance, a decent arm, and you said yourself you've a good turn of luck at the tables. What does she want? A paragon?"

Gregoire looks down at his glass, "No…not a paragon." He looks so sad in that moment, "That woman doesn't want the perfect man…just the perfect brother. The other side of the coin." He looks up and doesn't bother to hide his hell that shines in his eyes, "She has adored my twin, my brother since the moment they met." He takes another drink, "So you see…when she looks on me, she sees him. She wants him. Not me. Not the damned ass of a man that can barely get through a party without spilling a drink on himself."

Quintavius shakes his head, taking a moment to pour the tea now. "All I can offer, my lord, is my sympathy. I'm sure there are men all over the city who would offer their advice and wisdom, but I'll limit myself to offering a cup of tea and a friendly shoulder. Frankly, my lord, it's a miserable state to be in, no matter the circumstances." He offers over the cup and saucer and the single, heartfelt word, "Women."

Gregoire watches him pour the tea and nods his head, "Oh I know…it's fucking hell. And Richard, my brother, is fucking oblivious in his god damn perfection to notice that he's managed to beat me yet again." He gives a bitter laugh, "Three minutes…that's the difference between our arrival. And if our positions had been reversed, he would have married in to a woman that adores him and I would have stayed in the mountains that I love, protecting my home with my axe and bow. Hunting with my hounds and maybe be married to a woman that likes /me/." He takes the cup from him, "But it didn't play out that way so here we are."

"We can at least set up the hunt," Quintavius suggests once again, lifting a shoulder as he sips from his tea. "It's a poor substitute, but it's something to keep the spirits up. Here, try a pastry." The small plate is offered over. "Our pastry chef here is the very best in Siovale, I assure you."

Gregoire gives a nod and takes a pastry, noticing that his stomach is rather empty after his little incident on the pier. He takes a bite and makes a groan, "Oh gods…that's perfection." He takes another bite, "Amazing…" Clearly a man who enjoys his sweets, "You sir had better hold on tight to that pastry chef because this is just perfection." He quickly devours the pastry with little table manners, "I haven't even met the man and I'm half mad for his cooking."

Quintavius allows a small smile of satisfaction to breach his otherwise stoic features. "I shall pass on your compliments, my lord. Although I suspect anything sweet and starchy would suit at present. How's your stomach now? Steady enough to make it home, you think?"

Gregoire takes another sip of his tea to wash down the delectible treat and then gives a nod, "I think I can make it home now if you call me a carriage." He does admit to Quintavius, "I don't know these streets well enough." He motions to where their other companion disappeared, perhaps to the washroom, "And perhaps make sure she gets home too." He gives a look of gratitude, "Thank you…for the talk and the treat."

Quintavius offers his hand. "Stop by any time, my lord. It's good to meet another fellow from out of the city. I'll see to a carriage…" he holds up a hand "…please, finish your tea."

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