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There were several points during the brief exchange between Hylath and Quin where Léof might have interjected, had he thought more quickly. There seemed to be some undercurrent which he had just missed – like that bit about Quin’s father. Quin seemed inclined to let it drop, however, so Léof had not pressed and Quin changed the subject. “How old are you, anyway?” he asked.
“Six-and-ten,” said Léof. He nearly added, though my birthday is within the month, but that seemed overly childish to say. Most days it did not bother him, that he was several years younger than most of the men in the household, but other times he felt it keenly – like a gap that could be only partway bridged from either side.
“That’s older than you look,” said Hylath.
“That’s not something I can much help, can I?” said Léof, trying not to sound too disgruntled.
Hylath laughed. “I suppose not. But it matters little.”
Léof quickly seized the opportunity to change the topic, sensing a reasonable stopping point in the current one. “So, what do you do for fun, when you’re not soldiering for Lord Athanar?”
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