[Jaeyi] Rodric delivers Jaeyi's mail.
RL Date: 2/16/10
IC Date: 13/20/21 --Much as it sounds like one, that is not a euphemism this time. Also, I jacked this log from Rodric.
Kitchen, Fort Hold
Truly impressive is probably the most succinct and accurate way to describe the kitchens of Fort Hold. Multiple hearths line the walls, the latest and greatest kitchen equipment is installed in between and throughout with more than one central counter space in the middle of the room between all of those hearths. Storage room doors open off to one end of the space, a double dumbwaiter leads up into the Great Hall above as does a set of stairs off to the end of the kitchen farthest from the storage room doors. Another exit leads off to the private quarters of the bakers and cooks and other kitchen-oriented staff.
Your daily dose of foresight: Jaeyi makes dough for tomorrow's cinnamon rolls tonight, though most of the hard work seems to be done. Now she's just got a big mess on a couple of the counters, consistent of big old sheets of dough with a nice sheen of cinnamon-sugar-goodness, some of them already rolled up and waiting to be cut. It's a big job, this 'feeding a whole Hold' business, but it keeps her occupied and out of trouble (for the most part), and she seems pretty happy with it at the moment, though there's always the matter of "You can't eat raw dough. /Go away/, you fat little monster." It never works; the firelizard never actually leaves.
Or when he gets company from a bouncy green who trills gleeful pleasure at the /treasure/ she's found and a more sedate blue who gives her a chirrup of correction and settles down on the edge of the counter politely and lifts his head to fix intelligent eyes on the baker girl. Harper banded the pair of them and that might give some clue to who comes quietly down the stairs.
Rodric trades greetings with practiced charm and ease, hailing several of Jaeyi's fellow crafters and cooks-in-arms by name making it appear to be a casual stop by into the kitchen to wheedle some bread and butter out of the assistant cook there, before he winds up leaning in a non-chalant manner against Jaeyi's counter, long fingers stretched to scritch behind blue Dacapo's ears and a simple, quiet, "Trill" to bring the green to his shoulder and into line. "Mail call," he announces to the journeyman with a warm smile and reaches into the inner pocket of his rather pretty blue sueded jacket to bring out a nice fat packet of letters.
While Sugar might normally do-the-honors, bringing everyone around to eat because he knows exactly where everything is, he decides discretion is the better part of valor when Jaeyi reaches for a big wooden rolling pin by one handle. It's the firelizard version of 'whoops, gotta go,' that sudden up-and-disappearing the fat little monster does, a quick chirp of warning to the others. "I'm not feeding any of-- oh, you have no idea how close you came to losing two firelizards tonight." Seeing as both her hands are pretty gummy-and-floury from the task at hand, and one of them is presently wielding a rolling pin-- "I'd offer to let you put the mail in my apron pocket for me, but I'm not sure that's entirely appropriate, given certain givens, so why don't you just put it on the counter, hmn?" She will eventually start talking to everyone like they're her favorite nephew; it's bound to happen, what with the chubby-baker factor.
"Given givens," Rodric echoes, amused and leans over first to drop a light kiss to Jaeyi's cheek of the highly chaste variety and it looks it too, for that matter, for all its a fond gesture and he tucks the mail nearby just under the edge of a decorative rather than functional bowl, heavy with fruit. Dacapo chirrups again and settles down, wings folded neatly, 'at attention'. "It'd be a shame to lose them, especially since Dacapo is typically quite able to behave. It's his lady here whom I most often have trouble with, but she's soon enough brought to mind with the right tone of voice." The harper straightens, gaze roaming the counter top, the prepared dough, then lifts to the others in the kitchen before returning to the baker's face. "You look well, Jaeyi. It's good to have a moment to speak with you again. How are you?" Beat. "Given givens."
With a dramatic sigh; "It's the tone-of-voice that I seem to have trouble with, so I just threaten with the rolling pin. I've never actually had to hit him. So far." Jaeyi tilts her cheek to be kissed almost reflexively, smiles prettily afterward, and goes back to what she was doing promptly, since she can't exactly do much else with her hands in that state. "I always look well," she reasons, blowing a curl off her temple though it really doesn't need to be disturbed, more just to prove the always-look-well point. "I'm making cinnamon rolls," as to how she is, like that somehow answers the question. "How are you? Aside from looking very snappy in your coat, I mean."
"Perhaps we should practice?" Rodric suggests about the tone of voice, eyes twinkling mildly. "It is after all, a part of what I teach. Voice modulation. Though in this case, authority and a certain conviction are really what's needed." That and not spoiling the critter in between. "Cinnamon rolls, one of the keys to happiness, though I'd probably say that most would offer up that wisdom about the eating of them rather than the making. However, I can see how rolling out dough can probably be a soothing, rhythmic sort of activity." Quite serious, no really. "I'm well, in good health and enjoying my little winter sojourn to the Weyr, though the sadness here right now elicits much sympathy." His gaze shifts towards the stairs up into the Great Hall. "Savilan was a good man. What happened is quite a shame and I am very sorry for his family."
As sternly as she can pretend to manage, Jaeyi repeats, "Authority and conviction." Only, she's so far from selling it, it's just more funny than anything, and she ends with a crinkle of her nose, shaking off the effort. Just as serious, eyes trained on the log of dough she's just rolled up, she adds, "I mostly like slicing up the rolls. That, sir, is cathartic." Big knife, phallic dough, mhmn. Talk of Savilan and depressing things sobers her appropriately, lips pulled askew, and it's a long few seconds before she adds, "It's sad, but I guess there wouldn't be much for Harpers to talk about if Lords didn't die all of the sudden, would there?"
That nose crinkle is answered by a slight quirk of lips, the deepenng of laugh lines around Rodric's eyes. "Needs work still," he teases gently, then rests a hand lightly atop the counter, weight half-transferred there as he listens, eyes the dough again, then the baker. "It's good to have a productive way to deal with one's ... frustration," the harper remarks mildly, then bursts out laughing in spite of the seriousness of the moment before which earns him a /look/ from several of the more dour-faced cooks. "My dear, if a harper can't come up with a suitable topic of conversation in spite of the seeming lack of them when called for, then he or she, hasn't really earned the knot on his or her shoulder," Rodric notes gaily and nudges at a little pile of stray flour with his finger tip. "What's the kitchen gossip on the matter?" Asked softly and in deceptively mild tones.
...frustration. "I also like making people fat. I keep trying to convince myself it's because I have a generous nature, and not just because I don't like skinny people." With big, sweet, innocent eyes, Jaeyi blinks at Rodric and asks, "Are you coming to breakfast? You look like you could use some rolls." Expecting he'll follow along (most men do), she scoots over to the next flat of dough waiting to become a roll, pauses at the edge of that counter to give him an /actually/ serious look. "Do you think these girls gossip with me, Rodric?" /Her./ "And, if they did, do you think they'd tell me what they really think?" With a tsk; "And you're supposed to be so sharp."
Looking down at his less-than-ample physique, the harper looks back up at Jaeyi, "So either you really don't like me, or you do just enough to want to fatten me up," he teases further then tilts his head to the side as he slides down the counter along with her. "And of course, you don't overhear a thing, because that would be utterly impolite," he rejoinders with mock seriousness, but then he leans a little closer, adds in an undertone. "And if they're not gossiping with you, it's their loss, my dear. Your charming observations on life are always welcome in my home." A pause and he leans away again, smiles. "What I've heard, is that good money ought to be placed on the Steward for Warder, which could change the balance of things here quite a bit."
"Considering you're not at your home these days, that's not really all that inviting, now is it?" Jaeyi, under pretense of looking sternly disappointed in him still, gives the half-rolled dough a long frown, hands paused for a spell before a deep breath sets her abruptly back into motion. "I don't think you could get anyone to take that bet, since it's pretty obvious. I mean, Astrella's very nice, but I don't think a woman can lead a Hold from behind a handkerchief, so of course Esraval will have to be Warder." Briefly, dark eyes will catch bright ones, then return to the dough resolutely; "Tell me you didn't come all the way to the Hold just to talk about dead Lords and the Stewards who replace them?"
"Most nights," Rodric corrects mildly. "But there is also a spare key and a cothold that occasionally might like a bit more airing out than I'm currently giving it," the harper notes with a slight smile. "The other betting position was that Savilan's son would be passed over for Holder," Rodric answers that supposition with a slight drop of his chin and a quirk in the corner of his mouth. "That, and you might be surprised at what Astrella can accomplish from behind a handkerchief or just about anything else she chooses to wave about in front of her face." One long arm snakes out to tap tap at the top of the mail. "I came down here to bring you your mail, which I believe contains several interesting missives and invitations appropriate to the season." With emphasis on 'your' and 'invitations'. "I came to the Hold to express my condolences to Lady Astrella and offer what little counsel a semi-retired, former Masterharper with a good sense of Pern's general political climate might and some measure of comfort to other grieving members of the family, as is only proper for a harper of my standing and the parent of Fort's current Weyrleader." A little pause. "I also thought that it might be wise to let you know, given a thing or two I've heard here and there and based on past reactions, fair warning if you will, that I intend to propose to our mutual weaver friend on Turnover." Further pause. "She may well refuse and run away and she might wish for a friendly shoulder that is not my son's, nor in fact male at all."
"I keep making her muffins," Jaeyi says seriously after all that business about counsel and comfort and stuff. "I'm not sure she's eating them. So I hope you have better luck." She does mean that, as trite as it sounds. All talk of invitations gets smartly ignored, this being a kitchen and thus the source of 99% of gossip, which really doesn't bode well for Rodric's latter admission. Even Jaeyi, who is ridiculously sentimental despite how hard she'd protest the fact, can't help blinking owlishly at him for a time, her mouth in an unvoiced O for at least ten seconds. Finally; "I don't think it'd be my shoulder? I mean, we don't really talk like that? Anyways, that's not the point. Maybe she'll say yes? Probably she will, at least once it sinks in." Beat. "I'm sorry that I teased her about, uhmn, how this makes her kind of like my mother-in-law. In case that ever comes up."
"I'm sure the effort is appreciated, though given the depth of attachment between the Lady and her former Lord, I'm afraid the only balm for her wounds is a considerable amount of time." Blue eyes remain steady on the Baker, but there's that certain something that speaks of sadness in his gaze and yes, that's the voice of experience there. As for the gossips, this is why he's not really speaking loudly, though the acoustics might not be the best for low-voiced conversations over cinnamon roll creation. Of course, it's also possible that he either doesn't particularly care about this particular bit of gossip making the rounds, or he actually wants it hitting the circuit for whatever reason. "Mm. It'd make things terribly amusing though wouldn't it? I'm not about to volunteer to write up our family tree if she does say yes," the harper says with amusement rich in his tone. "As for whether or not you really talk that way or not, this might be a case of no words being required, just presence and comfort. Her friend at Igen would be the likelies recipient of any words."
Making a face about that family tree, Jaeyi comments, "No, you've already got your Mastery. It could be a good project for some aspiring young Harper, though, one who doesn't get easily confused." She crosses her eyes at the thought of it, adding, "Still, I hope she says yes. She's... She wasn't exactly happy about-- anyways." Kitchen. Not the place to go into it. "I'd be happy for you two. Jealous." The light version is 'jealous of Rodric for stealing her woman;' the hard version is 'jealous of people happy and /together/;' pick one, since she's likely to mean either or both. "But happy. --And I really have to finish this. I'd usually let you stay and talk and just finish the rolls later, but I have, like, strictly budgeted time."
That last is totally apologetic, by the way. [Stupid enter key.]
"Good point, I'll get right on that, see if it can't make a journeyman out of an archivist apprentice," Rodric jokes, though he sobers rapidly enough. "I know. This hasn't been easy for her," he says quietly, looks down at the counter for a moment. "Perhaps I am overly stubborn, but I have to ask at least once," Rodric continues, looks up at the baker and smiles at her, shifts to lift the backs of his fingers to her cheek, gently. "Your time will come, Jaeyi," the harper offers softly. "If only because spoiled little boys don't have terribly long attention spans." His fingers linger for a moment, warm but not importunate then drop away as the harper reaches over to encourage his blue to take up residence on his other shoulder and he fastens up his jacket. "For now though, I will leave you to your gainful employment and envy the Hold the sumptuousness of their breakfast or dessert. Clear skies my dear, I wish you a very pleasant evening of reading." Not ... other things.
Jaeyi will spare him the despairing look and share the heartened one instead, saying, "I'm sure it will. And, if not-- well. I can live with happiness in small doses. After all, I can /make/ ice cream, so I can always console myself." There's a sunny smile and, this time, she perches briefly to dot his cheek with a kiss. "Good luck. If it goes badly-- well. I'll make you some ice cream, hmn?" Right now, she needs to make the cinnamon rolls, and she applies herself to the task with a single-mindedness that she otherwise restricts to bedroom activities-- which explains why she's only good at two things: cooking and 'reading.'
"It's a date, should things go badly," Rodric teases gamely about the ice cream with a broad wink for the baker and a smile for the kiss to his cheek, two of a kind, he leans into it a little too, in spite of the lack of you know, any kind of ba-boom there. Rodric inclines his head in a polite farewell on his way out, exiting through the less conspicuous of several exits: apparently going back through the rather doleful Great Hall hung for mourning is not top of his list. A glance over his shoulder is spared for the diligent baker and briefly his mouth curls in a warm, fond smile, before Rodric disappears out the door. Ah the single-mindedness of youth. Regardless of its focus.
IC Date: 13/20/21 --Much as it sounds like one, that is not a euphemism this time. Also, I jacked this log from Rodric.
Kitchen, Fort Hold
Truly impressive is probably the most succinct and accurate way to describe the kitchens of Fort Hold. Multiple hearths line the walls, the latest and greatest kitchen equipment is installed in between and throughout with more than one central counter space in the middle of the room between all of those hearths. Storage room doors open off to one end of the space, a double dumbwaiter leads up into the Great Hall above as does a set of stairs off to the end of the kitchen farthest from the storage room doors. Another exit leads off to the private quarters of the bakers and cooks and other kitchen-oriented staff.
Your daily dose of foresight: Jaeyi makes dough for tomorrow's cinnamon rolls tonight, though most of the hard work seems to be done. Now she's just got a big mess on a couple of the counters, consistent of big old sheets of dough with a nice sheen of cinnamon-sugar-goodness, some of them already rolled up and waiting to be cut. It's a big job, this 'feeding a whole Hold' business, but it keeps her occupied and out of trouble (for the most part), and she seems pretty happy with it at the moment, though there's always the matter of "You can't eat raw dough. /Go away/, you fat little monster." It never works; the firelizard never actually leaves.
Or when he gets company from a bouncy green who trills gleeful pleasure at the /treasure/ she's found and a more sedate blue who gives her a chirrup of correction and settles down on the edge of the counter politely and lifts his head to fix intelligent eyes on the baker girl. Harper banded the pair of them and that might give some clue to who comes quietly down the stairs.
Rodric trades greetings with practiced charm and ease, hailing several of Jaeyi's fellow crafters and cooks-in-arms by name making it appear to be a casual stop by into the kitchen to wheedle some bread and butter out of the assistant cook there, before he winds up leaning in a non-chalant manner against Jaeyi's counter, long fingers stretched to scritch behind blue Dacapo's ears and a simple, quiet, "Trill" to bring the green to his shoulder and into line. "Mail call," he announces to the journeyman with a warm smile and reaches into the inner pocket of his rather pretty blue sueded jacket to bring out a nice fat packet of letters.
While Sugar might normally do-the-honors, bringing everyone around to eat because he knows exactly where everything is, he decides discretion is the better part of valor when Jaeyi reaches for a big wooden rolling pin by one handle. It's the firelizard version of 'whoops, gotta go,' that sudden up-and-disappearing the fat little monster does, a quick chirp of warning to the others. "I'm not feeding any of-- oh, you have no idea how close you came to losing two firelizards tonight." Seeing as both her hands are pretty gummy-and-floury from the task at hand, and one of them is presently wielding a rolling pin-- "I'd offer to let you put the mail in my apron pocket for me, but I'm not sure that's entirely appropriate, given certain givens, so why don't you just put it on the counter, hmn?" She will eventually start talking to everyone like they're her favorite nephew; it's bound to happen, what with the chubby-baker factor.
"Given givens," Rodric echoes, amused and leans over first to drop a light kiss to Jaeyi's cheek of the highly chaste variety and it looks it too, for that matter, for all its a fond gesture and he tucks the mail nearby just under the edge of a decorative rather than functional bowl, heavy with fruit. Dacapo chirrups again and settles down, wings folded neatly, 'at attention'. "It'd be a shame to lose them, especially since Dacapo is typically quite able to behave. It's his lady here whom I most often have trouble with, but she's soon enough brought to mind with the right tone of voice." The harper straightens, gaze roaming the counter top, the prepared dough, then lifts to the others in the kitchen before returning to the baker's face. "You look well, Jaeyi. It's good to have a moment to speak with you again. How are you?" Beat. "Given givens."
With a dramatic sigh; "It's the tone-of-voice that I seem to have trouble with, so I just threaten with the rolling pin. I've never actually had to hit him. So far." Jaeyi tilts her cheek to be kissed almost reflexively, smiles prettily afterward, and goes back to what she was doing promptly, since she can't exactly do much else with her hands in that state. "I always look well," she reasons, blowing a curl off her temple though it really doesn't need to be disturbed, more just to prove the always-look-well point. "I'm making cinnamon rolls," as to how she is, like that somehow answers the question. "How are you? Aside from looking very snappy in your coat, I mean."
"Perhaps we should practice?" Rodric suggests about the tone of voice, eyes twinkling mildly. "It is after all, a part of what I teach. Voice modulation. Though in this case, authority and a certain conviction are really what's needed." That and not spoiling the critter in between. "Cinnamon rolls, one of the keys to happiness, though I'd probably say that most would offer up that wisdom about the eating of them rather than the making. However, I can see how rolling out dough can probably be a soothing, rhythmic sort of activity." Quite serious, no really. "I'm well, in good health and enjoying my little winter sojourn to the Weyr, though the sadness here right now elicits much sympathy." His gaze shifts towards the stairs up into the Great Hall. "Savilan was a good man. What happened is quite a shame and I am very sorry for his family."
As sternly as she can pretend to manage, Jaeyi repeats, "Authority and conviction." Only, she's so far from selling it, it's just more funny than anything, and she ends with a crinkle of her nose, shaking off the effort. Just as serious, eyes trained on the log of dough she's just rolled up, she adds, "I mostly like slicing up the rolls. That, sir, is cathartic." Big knife, phallic dough, mhmn. Talk of Savilan and depressing things sobers her appropriately, lips pulled askew, and it's a long few seconds before she adds, "It's sad, but I guess there wouldn't be much for Harpers to talk about if Lords didn't die all of the sudden, would there?"
That nose crinkle is answered by a slight quirk of lips, the deepenng of laugh lines around Rodric's eyes. "Needs work still," he teases gently, then rests a hand lightly atop the counter, weight half-transferred there as he listens, eyes the dough again, then the baker. "It's good to have a productive way to deal with one's ... frustration," the harper remarks mildly, then bursts out laughing in spite of the seriousness of the moment before which earns him a /look/ from several of the more dour-faced cooks. "My dear, if a harper can't come up with a suitable topic of conversation in spite of the seeming lack of them when called for, then he or she, hasn't really earned the knot on his or her shoulder," Rodric notes gaily and nudges at a little pile of stray flour with his finger tip. "What's the kitchen gossip on the matter?" Asked softly and in deceptively mild tones.
...frustration. "I also like making people fat. I keep trying to convince myself it's because I have a generous nature, and not just because I don't like skinny people." With big, sweet, innocent eyes, Jaeyi blinks at Rodric and asks, "Are you coming to breakfast? You look like you could use some rolls." Expecting he'll follow along (most men do), she scoots over to the next flat of dough waiting to become a roll, pauses at the edge of that counter to give him an /actually/ serious look. "Do you think these girls gossip with me, Rodric?" /Her./ "And, if they did, do you think they'd tell me what they really think?" With a tsk; "And you're supposed to be so sharp."
Looking down at his less-than-ample physique, the harper looks back up at Jaeyi, "So either you really don't like me, or you do just enough to want to fatten me up," he teases further then tilts his head to the side as he slides down the counter along with her. "And of course, you don't overhear a thing, because that would be utterly impolite," he rejoinders with mock seriousness, but then he leans a little closer, adds in an undertone. "And if they're not gossiping with you, it's their loss, my dear. Your charming observations on life are always welcome in my home." A pause and he leans away again, smiles. "What I've heard, is that good money ought to be placed on the Steward for Warder, which could change the balance of things here quite a bit."
"Considering you're not at your home these days, that's not really all that inviting, now is it?" Jaeyi, under pretense of looking sternly disappointed in him still, gives the half-rolled dough a long frown, hands paused for a spell before a deep breath sets her abruptly back into motion. "I don't think you could get anyone to take that bet, since it's pretty obvious. I mean, Astrella's very nice, but I don't think a woman can lead a Hold from behind a handkerchief, so of course Esraval will have to be Warder." Briefly, dark eyes will catch bright ones, then return to the dough resolutely; "Tell me you didn't come all the way to the Hold just to talk about dead Lords and the Stewards who replace them?"
"Most nights," Rodric corrects mildly. "But there is also a spare key and a cothold that occasionally might like a bit more airing out than I'm currently giving it," the harper notes with a slight smile. "The other betting position was that Savilan's son would be passed over for Holder," Rodric answers that supposition with a slight drop of his chin and a quirk in the corner of his mouth. "That, and you might be surprised at what Astrella can accomplish from behind a handkerchief or just about anything else she chooses to wave about in front of her face." One long arm snakes out to tap tap at the top of the mail. "I came down here to bring you your mail, which I believe contains several interesting missives and invitations appropriate to the season." With emphasis on 'your' and 'invitations'. "I came to the Hold to express my condolences to Lady Astrella and offer what little counsel a semi-retired, former Masterharper with a good sense of Pern's general political climate might and some measure of comfort to other grieving members of the family, as is only proper for a harper of my standing and the parent of Fort's current Weyrleader." A little pause. "I also thought that it might be wise to let you know, given a thing or two I've heard here and there and based on past reactions, fair warning if you will, that I intend to propose to our mutual weaver friend on Turnover." Further pause. "She may well refuse and run away and she might wish for a friendly shoulder that is not my son's, nor in fact male at all."
"I keep making her muffins," Jaeyi says seriously after all that business about counsel and comfort and stuff. "I'm not sure she's eating them. So I hope you have better luck." She does mean that, as trite as it sounds. All talk of invitations gets smartly ignored, this being a kitchen and thus the source of 99% of gossip, which really doesn't bode well for Rodric's latter admission. Even Jaeyi, who is ridiculously sentimental despite how hard she'd protest the fact, can't help blinking owlishly at him for a time, her mouth in an unvoiced O for at least ten seconds. Finally; "I don't think it'd be my shoulder? I mean, we don't really talk like that? Anyways, that's not the point. Maybe she'll say yes? Probably she will, at least once it sinks in." Beat. "I'm sorry that I teased her about, uhmn, how this makes her kind of like my mother-in-law. In case that ever comes up."
"I'm sure the effort is appreciated, though given the depth of attachment between the Lady and her former Lord, I'm afraid the only balm for her wounds is a considerable amount of time." Blue eyes remain steady on the Baker, but there's that certain something that speaks of sadness in his gaze and yes, that's the voice of experience there. As for the gossips, this is why he's not really speaking loudly, though the acoustics might not be the best for low-voiced conversations over cinnamon roll creation. Of course, it's also possible that he either doesn't particularly care about this particular bit of gossip making the rounds, or he actually wants it hitting the circuit for whatever reason. "Mm. It'd make things terribly amusing though wouldn't it? I'm not about to volunteer to write up our family tree if she does say yes," the harper says with amusement rich in his tone. "As for whether or not you really talk that way or not, this might be a case of no words being required, just presence and comfort. Her friend at Igen would be the likelies recipient of any words."
Making a face about that family tree, Jaeyi comments, "No, you've already got your Mastery. It could be a good project for some aspiring young Harper, though, one who doesn't get easily confused." She crosses her eyes at the thought of it, adding, "Still, I hope she says yes. She's... She wasn't exactly happy about-- anyways." Kitchen. Not the place to go into it. "I'd be happy for you two. Jealous." The light version is 'jealous of Rodric for stealing her woman;' the hard version is 'jealous of people happy and /together/;' pick one, since she's likely to mean either or both. "But happy. --And I really have to finish this. I'd usually let you stay and talk and just finish the rolls later, but I have, like, strictly budgeted time."
That last is totally apologetic, by the way. [Stupid enter key.]
"Good point, I'll get right on that, see if it can't make a journeyman out of an archivist apprentice," Rodric jokes, though he sobers rapidly enough. "I know. This hasn't been easy for her," he says quietly, looks down at the counter for a moment. "Perhaps I am overly stubborn, but I have to ask at least once," Rodric continues, looks up at the baker and smiles at her, shifts to lift the backs of his fingers to her cheek, gently. "Your time will come, Jaeyi," the harper offers softly. "If only because spoiled little boys don't have terribly long attention spans." His fingers linger for a moment, warm but not importunate then drop away as the harper reaches over to encourage his blue to take up residence on his other shoulder and he fastens up his jacket. "For now though, I will leave you to your gainful employment and envy the Hold the sumptuousness of their breakfast or dessert. Clear skies my dear, I wish you a very pleasant evening of reading." Not ... other things.
Jaeyi will spare him the despairing look and share the heartened one instead, saying, "I'm sure it will. And, if not-- well. I can live with happiness in small doses. After all, I can /make/ ice cream, so I can always console myself." There's a sunny smile and, this time, she perches briefly to dot his cheek with a kiss. "Good luck. If it goes badly-- well. I'll make you some ice cream, hmn?" Right now, she needs to make the cinnamon rolls, and she applies herself to the task with a single-mindedness that she otherwise restricts to bedroom activities-- which explains why she's only good at two things: cooking and 'reading.'
"It's a date, should things go badly," Rodric teases gamely about the ice cream with a broad wink for the baker and a smile for the kiss to his cheek, two of a kind, he leans into it a little too, in spite of the lack of you know, any kind of ba-boom there. Rodric inclines his head in a polite farewell on his way out, exiting through the less conspicuous of several exits: apparently going back through the rather doleful Great Hall hung for mourning is not top of his list. A glance over his shoulder is spared for the diligent baker and briefly his mouth curls in a warm, fond smile, before Rodric disappears out the door. Ah the single-mindedness of youth. Regardless of its focus.