[She shakes her head. Maybe the prince really is dense... a pity, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. But Benedikta keeps her expression even, that thought locked well away in her head and not out for the world to see, least of all the prince.]
You know that is not all that I mean.
[Or does he?
She lifts her mug of ale and takes a short sip of it, her nose wrinkling at the taste.]
no subject
You know that is not all that I mean.
[Or does he?
She lifts her mug of ale and takes a short sip of it, her nose wrinkling at the taste.]
Do you feel him?