"The most conceptually lax when it comes to time, elves nonetheless always possess a memory that I envy," Duke Marshal said with a casual laugh, shrugging his shoulders. "Obviously, you've never forgotten our youthful aspirations."
Duke Simon clenched his fists, fell silent for a while, then shook his head. "But you forgot... "
"Yes, I've long forgotten."
Baroca Marshal made a rare funny face, instantly seeming decades younger, returning to their college days as classmates, playfully squeezing his eyebrows together. "Twenty-seven years might not change an elf, but for those of shorter lifespans, it's enough to change far too much."
Since no one interrupted them, their domestic-like conversation continued.
"Excuses."
Duke Simon's already pale face seemed to lose even more color, glaring at his friend: "All excuses, you've just been swayed by those things you once despised!"
"Swayed?"
