The morning passes in a slow, lethargic manner, as the six of us pass the time in the inn's dining room, sharing stories and jokes while we wait to see what, if anything, comes of Henri's discussion with his advisors.
May is the least bored of all of us.
She sits in front of Roland, eyes wide, as she listens to him tell a wildly exaggerated tale.
From where I sit, Roland looks more like he's complaining about something that went wrong a long time ago and disguising it as a fantasy adventure.
Or maybe he's just telling the story he thinks he'd have enjoyed at her age.
Or what he still does.
Still, it is somewhat funny.
And watching May listen, enchanted by every word that comes from Roland's mouth, is precious.
Beside me, Lucas seems to agree, as he suppresses a chuckle, the corner of his lip curling as he fights to contain his mirth.
