"Not agreeing to nothing," Nyles said, still wary. "Nothing 'cept dinner and showing you where the orphanage is. But I'll think about it."
Karla's eyebrows were just permanently going to hang out by her hairline for the duration of the conversation. Because now Nyles was making it sound like he'd be doing them a favor by heading back to Glacia with them.
"You're too kind," she drawled. "But fair. You choose the food, you can take it right from the server yourself so you know we didn't tamper with it, and whatever else you need to do to realize we mean you no harm. But if you want any of this, you need to start moving. I'm just about all out of patience for haggling."
"As you say, my lady!" Nyles agreed, back to sounding chipper.
Other than a quick stop at a street-vendor camped out in front of a tavern selling meat pies of dubious provenance, their trip to the landen orphanage was direct. It was still in the landen quarter, though fairly close to the edge where the Blood warehouse district began. Looking up at the forbidding stone mansion, Karla decided that if Nyles was a Dickensian orphan, than this place was the conglomeration of every workhouse in his entire catalogue.
"Cora's here?" she asked, dismayed.
"Dunno." Nyles' voice was muffled; he was answering around a mouthful of meat-pie. "If she's a landen orphan with nowhere else to go, she is. Unless she's made her escape already. Then who knows where she could be. Prob'bly dead, if she don't know the city."
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branchandroot
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Date: 2014-07-27 05:58 pm (UTC)Karla's eyebrows were just permanently going to hang out by her hairline for the duration of the conversation. Because now Nyles was making it sound like he'd be doing them a favor by heading back to Glacia with them.
"You're too kind," she drawled. "But fair. You choose the food, you can take it right from the server yourself so you know we didn't tamper with it, and whatever else you need to do to realize we mean you no harm. But if you want any of this, you need to start moving. I'm just about all out of patience for haggling."
"As you say, my lady!" Nyles agreed, back to sounding chipper.
Other than a quick stop at a street-vendor camped out in front of a tavern selling meat pies of dubious provenance, their trip to the landen orphanage was direct. It was still in the landen quarter, though fairly close to the edge where the Blood warehouse district began. Looking up at the forbidding stone mansion, Karla decided that if Nyles was a Dickensian orphan, than this place was the conglomeration of every workhouse in his entire catalogue.
"Cora's here?" she asked, dismayed.
"Dunno." Nyles' voice was muffled; he was answering around a mouthful of meat-pie. "If she's a landen orphan with nowhere else to go, she is. Unless she's made her escape already. Then who knows where she could be. Prob'bly dead, if she don't know the city."