[ Yes, growls his stomach, ravenously. He'd kept the door firmly locked until he absolutely had to take a piss, and then finally he'd ventured out. Then, when he found that there weren't any assassins lying in wait for him in the hallway, or bathroom, or on the stairs, he'd finally eased out and found the Emperor. By the clock on the wall, it's been a full fourteen hours since he locked himself in. And he's ravenous.
Even so, before he speaks, his mental link eases open just for a moment so that he can venture out a curious tendril, like a clam putting out a foot. Poisoned? A quick search of Gregor's emotions and intentions, and he concludes: Not poisoned. And then the link clenches shut again, tight as a bivalve. ]
Yeah. That'd be good. [ He supposes he ought to do some mark of courtesy. But should he use the proper form of address of a common subject speaking to the Barrayaran Emperor? Or the form of a Count's younger son? He stays silent instead. ]
no subject
Even so, before he speaks, his mental link eases open just for a moment so that he can venture out a curious tendril, like a clam putting out a foot. Poisoned? A quick search of Gregor's emotions and intentions, and he concludes: Not poisoned. And then the link clenches shut again, tight as a bivalve. ]
Yeah. That'd be good. [ He supposes he ought to do some mark of courtesy. But should he use the proper form of address of a common subject speaking to the Barrayaran Emperor? Or the form of a Count's younger son? He stays silent instead. ]