did u kno monette forgets the name of hermit's pleasure in book3 and just calls it solitaire.

[septad]

Felix's out, and from the sounds of it, he's actually taken Gideon with him. Some of the folk who like to think themselves clever in court call this Lord Harrowgate taking his Eusebian for a walk. Mildmay just likes the silence. He sets up in the parlor, sets a fire (no use bothering the new boy with it) and settles down for a few rounds of Hermit's Pleasure to clear his head. The time to think will do him good.

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[thraxios]

His Eusebian comes home soon enough, stormy-eyed and anxious to be out of the public eye. He was a retiring man before he lost his tongue; now, the thought of wandering the Mirador's innumerable corridors alone is a pressure on his chest, matched only by his weary fury at the way Felix decided to bid him good night before flitting off to find society with friends that can't be described as mutual.

No doubt he'll find plenty of society in someone else's bed tonight.

He's not fit for company when he returns, and he knows it, but Mildmay can hardly be described as company. Gideon stalks across the room, sits down across from the man, and folds his hands on the table. Cards will suit neither of them, but it's better than stewing in a room he can't properly describe as his own.

[septad]

Well, shit.

Normally, Mildmay would scamper off the second he saw the door opening, slithering back into his room without a peep. He'd used that trick to escape Keeper's wrath more than once, to great effect. But with a bum leg, he's useless; he'd fall on his ass and no one'd be better off for it. So, because two can play the silence game, he starts gathering up his cards, preparing to give Gideon some space. He's not in a pleasant mood from the looks of it. Likely Mildmay could spin it as a favor to him.

[thraxios]

Mildmay's never been in danger of having to talk to Gideon about Felix--and certainly not tonight. Gideon's looking for something to distract him from those thoughts, and unlike Felix Harrowgate, he doesn't do it by provoking people without reason.

He points to the cards. They might as well play a round or two, if Mildmay is going to tolerate his presence. He's been avoiding being left alone in the room with him lately, for reasons beyond Gideon's ken.

[septad]

"Uh," Shit shit shit. "I'm getting tired-" Fuck, it's not yet noon and Mildmay just obviously started playing. You always were a shit liar, Milly-fox.

[thraxios]

It isn't a good day when even Mildmay looks for ways to avoid speaking with him.

Gideon puts up a hand to stop him from going while he fishes a square of paper out of one pocket. It has a single question mark written on it, and he sets it on the table between them.

[septad]

Mildmay doesn't frown, but the consternation is obvious from his bearing. His shoulders hunch, a little. "Don't wanna bother you none."

[thraxios]

Gideon raises an eyebrow. He's never considered Mildmay a bother before; why should he do so now?

[septad]

Mildmay leans back in his chair and averts his gaze. If he doesn't stare at the source of his frustration, it'll be easier to avoid the temptation to grimace. He tries one more time to escape the line of inquiry; neither of them will like the result.

"Dunno."

[thraxios]

Gideon folds his hands again, regarding Mildmay with a neutral expression. He's not angry at him, after all. He can compartmentalize away all his thoughts on Felix's departure and wait for Mildmay to decide exactly what's hiding behind that dunno. Sometimes Mildmay simply needs time. And Gideon has enough of that on his hands.

[septad]

Ultimately, it's what Mildmay interprets as disappointment crossing Gideon's features that undoes his resolve; he looks down at his lap, expression stony. His voice is a mush of jumbled syllables: "Remind me of somebody."

[thraxios]

Gideon doesn't ask Mildmay to repeat himself; he settles in to comb through the slur of words he's been given to find some meaning. Remind is what comes through most clearly, and one, and he can guess the rest.

Writing, with Mildmay, is always a treacherous option. While the man can recognize his name and some smaller words, Gideon dislikes reminding him of the trouble he faces with longer ones. But here, it feels necessary. So he pulls out his tablet and stylus, writing out WHO in large, clear print.

[septad]

Mildmay shrugs, looking about as miserable as someone incapable of facial expressions can be. Gideon deserves his answers, he just doesn't want to give him fodder for Felix to laugh about later. "Dead guy." That's all Zephyr is anymore, anyway.