Her laughter (even if it was at the state of him) dispelled most of Endymion’s lingering chagrin at the close quarters they had been in, and he shook the last of it off with a chuckle of his own.
“Oh, Lycoris,” he said easily, buoyed by this news. That certainly meant Miss Sprout was lovely, because Lycoris was one of the sweeter of his sisters. He would not have been able to say the same of Porphyria’s strange collection of people, nor of Christabel’s rebel set, and Shalott was too in her own head to be sure her friends were not all fictional... but Lycoris’ taste could be trusted.
And Miss Sprout liked Lycoris’ hair, and... his by extension. Endymion was too fond of compliments (when they were earned but not sought, and this felt as unprompted and sincere as any, judging by the high colour in her face) to be flustered by this one. Instead, he grinned. “Oh, well,” he said, with a flattered shrug, sure that his hair was hardly in its best state today. “Then we have some connection. Perhaps I’ll see you again. With Lycoris – or at Evergardens,” he added, with a hopeful smile. He lived in London now, so it was not far; and if she was friendly with Lycoris, he might find an excuse to see her in society, too. He would have to pay better attention, perhaps. He offered her his arm lightly, to suggest that they ought to make haste away from the Bowtruckle tree, before any other Situations befell them. And – maybe he couldn’t resist a touch of teasing. “You know, to try the tea.”
“Oh, Lycoris,” he said easily, buoyed by this news. That certainly meant Miss Sprout was lovely, because Lycoris was one of the sweeter of his sisters. He would not have been able to say the same of Porphyria’s strange collection of people, nor of Christabel’s rebel set, and Shalott was too in her own head to be sure her friends were not all fictional... but Lycoris’ taste could be trusted.
And Miss Sprout liked Lycoris’ hair, and... his by extension. Endymion was too fond of compliments (when they were earned but not sought, and this felt as unprompted and sincere as any, judging by the high colour in her face) to be flustered by this one. Instead, he grinned. “Oh, well,” he said, with a flattered shrug, sure that his hair was hardly in its best state today. “Then we have some connection. Perhaps I’ll see you again. With Lycoris – or at Evergardens,” he added, with a hopeful smile. He lived in London now, so it was not far; and if she was friendly with Lycoris, he might find an excuse to see her in society, too. He would have to pay better attention, perhaps. He offered her his arm lightly, to suggest that they ought to make haste away from the Bowtruckle tree, before any other Situations befell them. And – maybe he couldn’t resist a touch of teasing. “You know, to try the tea.”
