"No," Daemar replied flatly, barely keeping his eyes on Sylas, his attention instead directed to the sword he had previously placed upon the table.
He said, "Tell me, are you going to assist me or not?"
"Hmm…" Sylas pressed his fingers against his chin as though in deep thought. He brooded over the matter for a while before saying at last, "Well, what are friends for? I suppose I have no choice but to teach you."
"I guess I'll owe you one, then," Daemar answered with a tight smile. Then, almost impatiently, he asked, "So, what do I do?"
Sylas smiled at this question and said, "Well, I think you should try kissing your fiancé, Lord Ravenhart. What do you think?"
~~~~~^°~~~~~°^~~~~~^~~~~~°^~~~~~
Meanwhile, Lior sneezed as he stepped away from his eldest sister's chamber, making his way toward the adjoining structure that housed the blacksmith's forge, which Isolde managed.
