It's unusual to have someone recognize her station without her mentioning it. Her eyebrows rise briefly as he nods to her, and she returns the gesture with a slight incline of her head. The man is even more curious than he was before, and it makes it easier for her to accept the drink without question. Where his words go after she takes it is less pleasant for her, but she can appreciate what someone as charismatic as she was at the height of her power on her world is attempting on her behalf.
Taking the offered glass, she turns it slowly between both hands as she thinks back to the last time she shared a drink with anyone on her world. Her last night with her family, she had refused a drink, as she always did when she intended to take up her blades and slingshot for work deep in the night. But it was something shared often in her home, and even without a single drop on her lips she would know the taste of it from the scent it left in the air. It doesn't make imagining it now easier, but at least she can use a recent memory than force herself to dig deeper to find one that truly fits Iago's ask.
"The sky was dark when I last saw it, filled with bright clouds lit by the waxing moon. Under it, I watched my family drink my share of the table wine, a deep red that left the tongue dry if one had too much. We laughed as we shared stories of our day, little tales I can barely recall now, save my father's insistence on an heir to my family's title. With his hopes for me dashed time and again, my youngest brother became his target. I did nothing to save him from the relentless ask or my mother's offers of matchmaking that night."
She laughs softly as she thinks on it a moment longer, then raises the glass to try a sip of the wine. As someone whose talents have always been in what she can do with her two hands rather than what her mind can plan, the memories do little to affect the wine. But she can imagine, if only for a few seconds, her family's laughter around her as she drinks. It stings more than it helps, but she'll avoid upsetting the stranger with that knowledge.
"It's closer than I thought it would be." That, at least, isn't a lie. The corner of Amelia's lips tug into a smirk as she tries another sip, then sets the glass aside. "A bit darker than I expected, but pleasant nonetheless. Thank you, this was an intriguing idea." And well worth the try.
no subject
Taking the offered glass, she turns it slowly between both hands as she thinks back to the last time she shared a drink with anyone on her world. Her last night with her family, she had refused a drink, as she always did when she intended to take up her blades and slingshot for work deep in the night. But it was something shared often in her home, and even without a single drop on her lips she would know the taste of it from the scent it left in the air. It doesn't make imagining it now easier, but at least she can use a recent memory than force herself to dig deeper to find one that truly fits Iago's ask.
"The sky was dark when I last saw it, filled with bright clouds lit by the waxing moon. Under it, I watched my family drink my share of the table wine, a deep red that left the tongue dry if one had too much. We laughed as we shared stories of our day, little tales I can barely recall now, save my father's insistence on an heir to my family's title. With his hopes for me dashed time and again, my youngest brother became his target. I did nothing to save him from the relentless ask or my mother's offers of matchmaking that night."
She laughs softly as she thinks on it a moment longer, then raises the glass to try a sip of the wine. As someone whose talents have always been in what she can do with her two hands rather than what her mind can plan, the memories do little to affect the wine. But she can imagine, if only for a few seconds, her family's laughter around her as she drinks. It stings more than it helps, but she'll avoid upsetting the stranger with that knowledge.
"It's closer than I thought it would be." That, at least, isn't a lie. The corner of Amelia's lips tug into a smirk as she tries another sip, then sets the glass aside. "A bit darker than I expected, but pleasant nonetheless. Thank you, this was an intriguing idea." And well worth the try.