"I like what you've done with the place, Hal," Radzig followed his son into the final room on his tour of the forge, Henry's personal room. He accepted the glass of wine from the blacksmith, smiling sadly, "Martin would be proud."
"Thank you, father," Henry said with a solemn nod, sipping from his own goblet, "it hasn't been easy. But I've had plenty of support."
Radzig rounded the table, approaching the cage in the corner of the room at the back. The raven looked up at the stranger, tilting his head to the side as he bent down to look into his cage.
"And who is this creature?"
"That's Kabat," Henry said, joining his father at the bird's cage to glare down at his foul-mouthed feathered friend, "and, yeah, he is a cunt. But he's alright."
Before Sir Radzig could say anything else, Kabat squawked, "fuck me harder, fuck me harder!"
Henry's eyes widened as his father turned to look at him in amusement. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "he used to live at a bathhouse."
Henry threw a large sheet over the cage and hurriedly began ushering his father from his room, "the bathhouse was in Rattay. Did I show you the stables?"
It didn't take long for Sir Hans to show up. He seemed surprised to see Radzig, enjoying the shade of the willow tree in the garden. The young noble approached, clearly thinking of an excuse for his presence.
"Sir Hans," Radzig interrupted before he received more context than either of them were comfortable with, "are you enjoying your stay here?"
"Indeed, Sir Radzig," he said, far too innocently. Hans didn't meet his gaze, though, and he folded his arms to keep his hands from fidgeting nervously, "the guest room is most inviting."
Radzig just nodded, ever discreet, "I'm sure it is."
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