Oh, she was concerned indeed. Endymion considered the fox, as if her pet might hold the answer to what sounded ridiculous aloud. “Earlier this afternoon,” he admitted, and he might have taken a doze after his tearoom stop but even since it had gotten dark outside and the blizzard had been blowing, he had been stuck in some kind of skirting loop through the greenhouse gardens for what felt like forever.
“I’ve been trying to get back to the entrance since it started snowing, I promise, I know you’re closed,” he added sincerely, because he had intended to leave. “But it’s as if I was walking in circles. Or I might just – have a very bad sense of direction. But,” he smiled quizzically at her, eyebrows knitted sympathetically, “however would you have foreseen that?” He didn’t know how she could have foreseen any of this, frankly. Even the blizzard had been worse than anticipated.
“I’ve been trying to get back to the entrance since it started snowing, I promise, I know you’re closed,” he added sincerely, because he had intended to leave. “But it’s as if I was walking in circles. Or I might just – have a very bad sense of direction. But,” he smiled quizzically at her, eyebrows knitted sympathetically, “however would you have foreseen that?” He didn’t know how she could have foreseen any of this, frankly. Even the blizzard had been worse than anticipated.
