[Barma would not have had the Dodo all of this time and neglected to perfect the delicate negotiations of interactions. By the time Break returns, the cookie is gone, though crumbs cling to Reim's glove as faint tattle tale. The cup, however, is the tricky part. It's taken by his own hand as Reim reaches, a copy of it made, becoming part of the illusion.
Barma, himself, impassively sips at the tea a few steps away.
He knew they were close, not just from his years attending Sheryl as her vallet. But the subtle changed in Reim's tones as he gave report, gentle notes of fretting or fondness in the midst of a long rest note of emotion otherwise. The impressive thing to Barma, was to see for his own eyes, how much it went both ways.
He had to suppose the Hatter was not entirely rubbish.]
1/2
Barma, himself, impassively sips at the tea a few steps away.
He knew they were close, not just from his years attending Sheryl as her vallet. But the subtle changed in Reim's tones as he gave report, gentle notes of fretting or fondness in the midst of a long rest note of emotion otherwise. The impressive thing to Barma, was to see for his own eyes, how much it went both ways.
He had to suppose the Hatter was not entirely rubbish.]