[ The question gives him pause. It feels loaded, like the wrong answer will suggest that he regrets not sacrificing the thousands of spawn in that dungeon so that he could live a life of luxury. He busies himself with investigating a small chest beside one of the beds that seems to hold the servants' belongings. Nothing worth stealing, but he still rifles through them regardless. A comb, a hairpin, a letter marked To Alice, Love Philip. ]
I don't know, [ he finally says, eyes still downcast as he flips open the note and reads Philip's flowery prose. Another moment passes in silence before he shrugs, tossing the letter back in the chest. ]
I suppose there's no reason to want what will never be, is there?
[ He gave up his chance at being one of the rich and powerful when he gave up ascension. There's no palace in his future, no horde of servants at his beck and call. ]
no subject
I don't know, [ he finally says, eyes still downcast as he flips open the note and reads Philip's flowery prose. Another moment passes in silence before he shrugs, tossing the letter back in the chest. ]
I suppose there's no reason to want what will never be, is there?
[ He gave up his chance at being one of the rich and powerful when he gave up ascension. There's no palace in his future, no horde of servants at his beck and call. ]