Because you were too busy indirectly ruining my life while you were at school isn't something Lucius would have a problem with saying normally, if maybe in better words, but he hasn't finished his drink enough to be that transparent, and weirdly, this adult creature sitting across from him fails to inspire the same kin of twisting malice and resentment evoked by his younger analogue.

Or, well. No. But not as much.

So here's to hoping that this sentiment can be read in the slight tip of Lucius' head and an eyebrow raise. The book shuts with the close of one hand, a punctuating fwip, before he hands it back in a lax grip. "The eternally forgiving nature of a war hero," he comments, that hand going back to his whiskey, and the other once again stealing close his cane to lean against his thigh, hand spidered over silver hilt.

"You must the one who's told them everything."