[Sylvain absorbs that information with a blink. It's stupid, like poking a half-healed wound just to see how well it's bandaged. But he can't stop himself from wondering if that's how Miklan sounded talking about Gautier to his gang.
Miklan's dead, and it's long past mattering anyway. Sylvain rolls his shoulders, more like sloughing off a weight than a shrug, and the sharper edge on his smile fades into his more typical one.]
Sounds like there's some history there. Is it prying if I ask?
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Miklan's dead, and it's long past mattering anyway. Sylvain rolls his shoulders, more like sloughing off a weight than a shrug, and the sharper edge on his smile fades into his more typical one.]
Sounds like there's some history there. Is it prying if I ask?