"We wouldn't want to blasphemy now would we?"

The wink has him chuckling softly under his breath as he lets his gaze drop to his glass for a moment.

"We have nothing as grand as Sanbreque has when it comes to musical repertoire. The songs I learned were simple folk tunes sung by bards or, at my brother's behest, melodies from his favourite plays. When he wanted to practice lines he'd learned I usually took the role of the maiden fair to amuse him. I couldn't deny him when he enjoyed it so much."

He lowers his head a bit at the memory, chest suddenly tightening. Clive had always been the one to save him, even back then.

"Mother didn't like me singing. If she caught me she'd scold me. It was bad for my lungs, she thought. Foolish woman."