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Iseult was plagued with Leonards. Not that this was really necessarily a bad thing, save that she wasn't quite sure what to make of it. She'd met Straylor first and had found his company relatively annoying, if not downright aggravating. As of late, he seemed to have improved marginally since she'd met him and she'd been doing her best to be polite and civil given that he was about to marry her cousin. That still didn't mean she genuinely approved of the marriage or of Straylor. But gradually there was acceptance. Gradually. Ci'aran was another matter completely. She and the guard were close, good friends. There were no troubles at all concerning Ci'aran as he seemed to understand when to leave well enough alone and when to pursue a topic. Ah, but this. Another Leonard.
She narrowed her eyes on Seyren slightly. How many 'Stray Leonard's could there possibly be on Telath? Particularly when 'Stray' was apparently not the full name either. She sighed and reached for her cider, sipping at it, relishing the thickness of the fermented apple and the faint traces of alcohol within. She loved cider and it wasn't nearly as potent as some of the other boozes she'd taken to drinking since she'd found out about her curse. Lovely thing, that. The curse.
"Straylor," she informed the girl with a sigh...that sounded as if she were giving in in some form or another. "Straylor Leonard--he lives two or so brightenings south of here in Trysvale. Which isn't so much a city as it is a backwater hole in the wall. He's got a brother Ci'aran. He lives here in Jaedaxia." While Iseult seemed hesitant to give information about herself, the link between herself and the Leonards readily came out. I mean. It wasn't every brightening two people who knew the same people happened to meet randomly in a tavern. Right? "Well. Karma has a funny sense of humor. Your cousin, if he's that, is getting married next cycle."
She took a long drink of her cider and wondered if this karma stuff had it out to get her. Why another Leonard? And why one that had to be as prying as a mouse trying to get to the cheese? "I'm from Trysvale. That backwater little hole in the wall." It was curtly spoken. She didn't like Trysvale and that much was evident in the tone and the infliction used when mentioning the small town where Seyren's cousin now lived.
"You never actually said where you were from," she pointed out. Had she asked? She thought about it. She didn't think so.
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