"No, I know how to interact with nobles," Amelia said. "You just don't see me do it."
"I am a noble, am I not?"
"I don't think so," Amelia said, quite casually, with her back turned to him. She likely meant nothing by it. It was likely just the remark of the outspoken girl that she was… And yet it still made Oliver's heart thud several beats faster.
With the death of Lombard, there had perished a noble that knew the reality of his situation. That knew the whole of him. Now there were only Greeves and Nila left in Solgrim. And if they fell too, would anyone really know him? Was it possible to truly declare yourself as a friend of someone, without showing the reality of who you were?
"Solgrim has been attacked," Oliver said, quite suddenly.
Amelia clanged her long ladle against the side of her pot in a sudden start. "By who?" She asked with urgency.
"A thousand supposed Yarmdon," Oliver said.
