Ordhan looked startled by the suggestion, speechless for a moment before saying, "No, of course not!" He realized belatedly that it was a joke (why was he always so slow in catching them?), adding a hasty smirk to the reply. That didn't prevent him from feeling a pang of defensiveness at the thought of someone calling her mean-spirited names.
"I think it is because bowls of fruit don't move about on their own often," he laughed. "But given how many other things don't move about on their own, you'd think they'd choose other subjects more." It was only a guess, of course. He knew little of the subject; while Nathaniel had tutored him in the complexities of words and numbers when he was a child, lessons on art, dancing, and the like were things only the full-blooded noble children had to suffer.
The sort of painting Falina was referring to was all too familiar to him. There had been many of them at the Wyland estate--an irksome thing for a hungry child shooed away from the kitchens for being a freeloader. Exotic, unrecognizable fruits from faraway lands, apples and pears fairly glowing with color, grapes drooping luxuriously over gold cloth.
Yes. There were far too many pictures of fruit bowls.
"The library it is, then, It's towards the middle of the Keep, but the way is straightforward." He motioned towards the way as he spoke. "You like to read?" he asked conversationally.