[Truth be told, Vergil doesn't think it will really matter to Nero where Kyrie manages to get her ingredients from. She could very well go picking through the trash and put it on a plate, and he would fall all over himself espousing praises to her name. He will be plenty pleased with a more ordinary breakfast just as he would be had she gone to the trouble of gathering fresh ingredients. He doesn't say any of this, however, because he understands enough that for Kyrie, there is a difference all the same in the amount of effort she puts into it. Making him breakfast each day is a simple, basic task. Getting the ingredients from the farmer's market while not making a difference necessarily to Nero, is something special for her perspective.]
[He hasn't the time to say anything about the matter of the farmer's market before her attention is on his book. Vergil's gaze moves from Kyrie down to the nearby book, and he would be lying if he did not feel an impulsive urge to draw it closer to himself. He tamps down on such a defensive response though.]
Yes, [he says, drawing his attention back up to Kyrie.] I have read it several times these past few weeks. It is not a particular favorite of mine, but Beatrice loved it and it had been a long time since I read it.
[He leaves it at that, not divulging anything further regarding his motivations for reading it.]
[Beatrice. That was Nero's mother's name, wasn't it? How strange that this book should have been one of her favorites.]
I used to love this when I was younger, my father and I would read it together.
[It's been such a long time since she read it, who would have thought that was something she had in common with Nero's mother? She remembers their old copy with the frayed ribbon attached to the book that served as a bookmark, the worn gilded lettering and patterns on the cover and the pretty marbled paper on the inside. It had been such fun to trace the patterns on cover's border while listening to her father read it, curled up on his lap on the big leather wingback chair in his study.
It's been a while since she'd thought of those times.]
I always found myself wondering if having a sister would be the same as it was in the book, or if it would be the same as having brother but a girl.
[...so much for steering away from inane conversation.]
It always made me cry though. When Beth dies. I couldn't imagine- well I suppose I can now.
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[He hasn't the time to say anything about the matter of the farmer's market before her attention is on his book. Vergil's gaze moves from Kyrie down to the nearby book, and he would be lying if he did not feel an impulsive urge to draw it closer to himself. He tamps down on such a defensive response though.]
Yes, [he says, drawing his attention back up to Kyrie.] I have read it several times these past few weeks. It is not a particular favorite of mine, but Beatrice loved it and it had been a long time since I read it.
[He leaves it at that, not divulging anything further regarding his motivations for reading it.]
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I used to love this when I was younger, my father and I would read it together.
[It's been such a long time since she read it, who would have thought that was something she had in common with Nero's mother? She remembers their old copy with the frayed ribbon attached to the book that served as a bookmark, the worn gilded lettering and patterns on the cover and the pretty marbled paper on the inside. It had been such fun to trace the patterns on cover's border while listening to her father read it, curled up on his lap on the big leather wingback chair in his study.
It's been a while since she'd thought of those times.]
I always found myself wondering if having a sister would be the same as it was in the book, or if it would be the same as having brother but a girl.
[...so much for steering away from inane conversation.]
It always made me cry though. When Beth dies. I couldn't imagine- well I suppose I can now.