Office Hours, Thursday, 4/5
Tyrion had sent a raven to Highgarden almost as soon as he could get away from Joanna on Saturday. He knew she was likely a whim of the island's, but there was just enough chance she -- or someone like her -- could exist that he had to check.
A return messenger was waiting on his desk when he came to his office. The answer in the letetr carried by the bird was no. No Joanna Hill in the Tyrell family households, few Hills at all, and no one remembered a Tysha. He supposed they could be going by different names, but short of going door-to-door inspecting each and every servant there as no way to prove that theory.
Tysha was as lost as she'd ever been, Joanna no more than a dream. Knowing that hurt Tyrion more than seeing the maid step through the portal had.
"Caw," the raven said, not terribly sympathetically. Tyrion fed it a bit of corn and sent it on its way.
And then he settled into his work. There was always, at least, work to do.
[OOC: Open, if maudlin, office hours!]
A return messenger was waiting on his desk when he came to his office. The answer in the letetr carried by the bird was no. No Joanna Hill in the Tyrell family households, few Hills at all, and no one remembered a Tysha. He supposed they could be going by different names, but short of going door-to-door inspecting each and every servant there as no way to prove that theory.
Tysha was as lost as she'd ever been, Joanna no more than a dream. Knowing that hurt Tyrion more than seeing the maid step through the portal had.
"Caw," the raven said, not terribly sympathetically. Tyrion fed it a bit of corn and sent it on its way.
And then he settled into his work. There was always, at least, work to do.
[OOC: Open, if maudlin, office hours!]