Merlin’s beard, he’d said the c-word aloud. Evander could not help giving an involuntary shudder, one-quarter due to the thought of actually being a cannibal and three-quarters for the embarrassment of the theory alone. (And it was Easter to boot: that really put the body and blood of Christ into a terrible light.)
“I don’t mean to criticise,” Evander said hastily, absolutely meaning to criticise; “I just -” he ahemed and wished he had his conversation plan to hand again, “am sure there must be a more stable option for you, something that might see you... a little better integrated? You might find it a - nice change, even. Being closer to home.” (Not that there was anyone truly at home for him now: everyone in the family whom his brother had left behind for the navy before was buried now, save Evander. And it was hardly for his own sake that Evander said these things.)
Not that he knew what, precisely, Alfred could do. He would have suggested something that wasn’t sailing at all, if he weren’t worried his brother would bite his head off for it. (Perhaps even literally.)
“I don’t mean to criticise,” Evander said hastily, absolutely meaning to criticise; “I just -” he ahemed and wished he had his conversation plan to hand again, “am sure there must be a more stable option for you, something that might see you... a little better integrated? You might find it a - nice change, even. Being closer to home.” (Not that there was anyone truly at home for him now: everyone in the family whom his brother had left behind for the navy before was buried now, save Evander. And it was hardly for his own sake that Evander said these things.)
Not that he knew what, precisely, Alfred could do. He would have suggested something that wasn’t sailing at all, if he weren’t worried his brother would bite his head off for it. (Perhaps even literally.)
