"How do I choose the box to bury my friends in?"
scandal sentence starters aka lots of angst, sex, and murder.
Pale eyes rose from the papers they had been focusing on from the past hour, trying to read on the tone that had been used at that question - was it a questioning his King would be making to him? A joke? Silence remained in the room as Gilbert analysed his choices. Why would Frederick pull him out of a so very obvious moment of concentration only to crack a joke? A bad one out of all?
Burying your enemies is much easier, and the soldier is sure that his King needs no opinion of his on that, but friends? Then again, Gilbert had to consider if Frederick had a real friend anymore outside of his dogs.
What if this is some kind of philosophical question? Ugh, he really is not in the mood for this.
“If they are your friends”, his voice finally escaped from between thin lips as his eyes came back to the words on the paper, “find them some that blends well fanciness with simpleness. Lord knows how you like and attract those kind of things around you.”
