♛ ╱ lady liliana beaufort.
in passing, it was only the tone of his commentary that caught liana’s attention. surely, it would be the delicate expectation of her to hurry by without commentary, and she did try as she might. of course, liliana’s tongue always tended to get the better of her. she paused midstep, drawing in a heavy breath before she spun on heel to face the dutch stranger. “true as it might be that negotiation may take effort to reach common ground,” she said, looking down as she balanced delicate crystal in her fingers, “i find that, if your attitude is shared with that of your countrymen, we all might be at a standstill for quite some time.”
“tis not an attitude, my lady, but a known fact among my fellow countrymen. in sympathy, that england cannot trounce every nation is no doubt a thorn mourned from her rose,” his gentle return is not without feeling, snared somewhere between a patriot’s pride and the unwillingness to offend she who called these famed lands home, “my qualm is not with england’s perceived self-worth; on the contrary, your confidence is much admired overseas. i will confess, however, that i feel conciliation cannot solely be a dutch responsibility in these matters.” reaching for the nearest half-full decanter, he refills his glass, before extending the offer to the fair-haired noblewoman with a tellingly droll tilt of his lips, “the english and their king must, what is it you say... stoop to one’s level?”
