"Hippocras, if you would." The tone was haughty and aloof, but Hester had never been one to be chummy with servants. It wouldn't do to be rude, no, but they did need to be reminded of their place in the world from time to time. It kept them from being upstarts, after all, and there was a reason for the aristocratic classes. Otherwise, everything would just descend into madness.
Hester sipped at her drink as she thought over that particular gem. So Isobel of Dayne was no prize and her brother was after her. Clearly he knew what treachery it was to lay with Daynes and yet...she'd never been able to figure Arys's motives past "want" but she figured it couldn't hurt to try. She pushed it from her mind and put a smile on her face, more than willing to keep discussing lighthearted gossip.
"And to think she's had more experience courting than myself. It's a pity such idiocy was wasted on the fine lords of Westeros. Next you'll be telling me she spilled wine down Lord Thomas Tully and made him think it was a good idea. Men seem to put stock in retiring maids like the Doom of Starfall."
A little acidic, but it wasn't like the girl would hear of it. Intentionally.