IC - IC Contact [Riverview]

[burntbridges]

 
"You've reached Letha Regis... forgive me if it takes some time to get back to you."

Text / Audio / Video / Action

Comments

[like_quicksilver]

If she seemed blunt, it was because that was how she was brought up. Her family rarely believed in that sort of concealment; if they didn't wish to say something, they either didn't say it or lied through omission.

"Why would you be the cause of it..?" She'd been doing the dishes while talking, but slowed in her work when questioned. Ivar made no mention of Cinna, so how would she come to that conclusion?

The rest, of course he didn't throw knives near her niece, but she still didn't understand the connection.

Manners and customs of hospitality didn't allow her to refuse even trying food if offered. So even as the cookies were a little burnt on the bottom, she accepted one of them. "Thank you."

[burntbridges]

"Ivar and I are old friends. After knowing one long enough, one learns to worry if they've somehow set him off without realizing."

She says it with the same bright, casual tone as everything else. She loves Ivar, even the parts of him that she doesn't fully understand. His temper is so much worse than hers, but she still can't bring herself to blame him when he loses it. Even if she often ends up the target of it.

"Anyway, I'm sure it will sort itself out without us worrying. Can I offer you anything? Something to drink, perhaps?" Before Gyda even answers she'd reached over to turn on her electric kettle - one of those simple little things she isn't sure how she lived without while she was gone.

[like_quicksilver]

Gyda supposed there was truth in that; after all she had spent time in Kattegat, but never determined how long. Still, if Ivar never mentioned her name, she wondered if the connection was still more speculation on her part.

She took a bite from the cookie, the taste of burnt sugar and..something else, immediately hitting her, and it took a surprising amount of manners not to make a face as she swallowed it down. The woman was not joking when she said that baking wasn't her best skill.

"Milk maybe?" She covered the rest of the cookie with her fist. "Or tea, that works too."

Whatever it took to get the taste out of her mouth.