“I work as a clerk in the clothing shop. I was a barrister at home, I dealt mostly with estate laws and matters,” he said, a sour look on his face saying everything he seemed to think about his position. He poured Gellert his tea, put the sugar in and put the cup nearer to him before pouring himself a cup and adding nothing but a bit of lemon and sugar too it. He leaned back and took a sip, the tea immediately making him feel a bit more relaxed. It was a memory of home; the appropriate response to an hour of the day that happened daily.
“I would assume they’ve given you a career far below what you are capable of as well.” It was a subtle cue, he wanted to hear that Gellert had been up to something other than whatever menial job he’d been handed off. Because if he could look at Gellert and find guidance there, find some sort of push towards movements in that damn world, then maybe he could hope. Of course, anyone else would have been angry to see them together, even if they were innocently having tea.
Well, not innocently.
“I live with a man who would disagree with us, even though his surname reflects a history of good breeding,” Guy said, that tenseness back to his jaw and hands.