Gwenaëlle waits for a moment or so. When it becomes apparent that Herian is not continuing, she carefully does not sigh, though it's hard to miss that she might've. Most things about her are difficult to miss, upon examination; she is not some opaque thing made for the Game. Nor is she particularly suited to the kind of pussy-footing around subjects for hours as Orlesian noblewomen are so known for--
"You are currently eating into the amount of time I've agreed to be troubled for," she says, very politely, "if you were at all inclined to get to the point in the near future."
Not hostile, just - perhaps inappropriately frank. Herian wanted to talk to her. The onus is on her to have something to talk about.
"I presume it wasn't just that we have mutual acquaintances." Since she seems so thrilled by Gwenaëlle's existence, yes. (And - plural. Sometimes it's nice to pretend for her father that his brother might live. She doesn't think he'd be terribly grateful to her if he knew, but sometimes, she pretends.)
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"You are currently eating into the amount of time I've agreed to be troubled for," she says, very politely, "if you were at all inclined to get to the point in the near future."
Not hostile, just - perhaps inappropriately frank. Herian wanted to talk to her. The onus is on her to have something to talk about.
"I presume it wasn't just that we have mutual acquaintances." Since she seems so thrilled by Gwenaëlle's existence, yes. (And - plural. Sometimes it's nice to pretend for her father that his brother might live. She doesn't think he'd be terribly grateful to her if he knew, but sometimes, she pretends.)