"I shall welcome that day with open arms like any other," he replies, looking at his friend with sweetness. He poses a fair point however, and feels himself sighing the way he's seen his parents do when deciding what behavior to reward. "But perhaps not all of the ton is as keen on you as I am," Cabell chuckles. "See how easily you can make your dear friend blush?"
"Have you thought of what you'd like your tomb to read? Something poetic? No, allow me to correct myself. Romantic." Sydney jests. He leans to swipe a swig of his scotch, then considers the honeyed liquid for a moment. "Let us not lie to each other," Sydney scoffs, another sip before the glass reunites with the table. What did he care of the rest of the ton's distaste? Respectable men of marrying age participated in the ton eagerly, but Sydney never aspired to respectability. It was written in his stars despite every breath of his might. "Far too easily, old chap." A mischievous grin in place, Sydney tugs on Cabell's necktie to loosen just enough to be noticeable, but not salacious. "Go on, then." Retracting his hand, he now gesticulates that Cabell reaches his point. "You were saying, Ecuador, wagons, dragons?"












