“Mmm,” Trystan agreed, non-committal: he was not sure this line of curiosity would lead to anything good, in the long run. Perhaps only to heartbreak and disappointment; perhaps to public ruin.
So when he saw an opening to change the angle of the subject slightly, Trystan marched on and took it. “I take it that means you don’t have any yet, then?” He said with a joking air of faux-disapproval. (Of course he had to be joking; one could not be that much of a hypocrite, when they had just been discussing his son’s own bastard status.)
Now that he had his own place, it was only be a matter of time, probably. Room and opportunity for youthful romantic affairs to get messy, he meant; perhaps Aristide would be more careful than he had been.
So when he saw an opening to change the angle of the subject slightly, Trystan marched on and took it. “I take it that means you don’t have any yet, then?” He said with a joking air of faux-disapproval. (Of course he had to be joking; one could not be that much of a hypocrite, when they had just been discussing his son’s own bastard status.)
Now that he had his own place, it was only be a matter of time, probably. Room and opportunity for youthful romantic affairs to get messy, he meant; perhaps Aristide would be more careful than he had been.
