[ More and more, Diarmuid feels like they're getting farther from the actual point of the war itself— not that he can hold it against the young ladies, but a Master that buys cake for other Masters and their Servants? How perplexing.
Even more mystifying still is that Ireland's own Child of Light, a demigod of legend, is settling down in front of the dining room table, in full modern regalia, peering at that cake without much protest.
What is even going on anymore........ ]
As far as victory feasts go, it's modest.
[ He says, a bit dryly, though he stations himself behind Ai Thao without taking a seat. ]
no subject
Even more mystifying still is that Ireland's own Child of Light, a demigod of legend, is settling down in front of the dining room table, in full modern regalia, peering at that cake without much protest.
What is even going on anymore........ ]
As far as victory feasts go, it's modest.
[ He says, a bit dryly, though he stations himself behind Ai Thao without taking a seat. ]