Pot and Kettle

Seeing Aoife's back was always a surprise to Sebastian, but one he felt he held well enough. It was a stark reminder of the hell she'd been through. That they'd all been through. But she'd almost always taken the brunt of it. None of that more clear than the scar from the Arishok. Sebastian, himself, would still blanch sometimes if he thought too much about what had happened. The remaining scar, however, didn't affect him as much - just the memories tied to it.

Sebastian shrugged at the question. You'll need to ask Bodil, she keeps all the guest suites stocked. Might even be her own special blend. Not that he exactly wanted to encourage Aoife go talk to the one woman in all of Starkhaven that could spill every single secret from his childhood.

He laughed at the question. Sister Victoria. He paused a moment, then added: In fact, I'd suggest you avoid her. She's a bit... obstinate. He shifted slightly, turning and beginning to scratch Tofa gently. The other two you might get along with. My general is very level headed, I think you'll like them. Or, at least, he hoped they'd get along. If Aoife was going to insist on being his personal bodyguard, she'd need to deal with his general at some point.

Glancing back at her, he pondered offering help. Obviously, she could handle bathing herself, but something tugged at him to do it. And whether it was the effect of what little drink he'd had, the high of kissing her, or something else entirely... Would you like help?