"I'd imagine not. I was hoping for at least Latin but we can work on that as well. At least learning new languages is a lot quicker and easier than it used to be. Though I suppose you won't be finding Chthonian on Duolingo." Oh well. The baby Tremere was nowhere near ready to read any ancient tomes written in Chthonian any way. The last thing they needed was for him to go mad or awaken sleeping things that were best left asleep.
A twist of his fingers and an invisible force plucked the empty mug from Rhys' fingers and into the sink. Another twist and the water turned on to rinse the mug out. After all, no one wanted to deal with crusty, dried blood later.
While Rhys was hesitant to ask the questions that were building up in his mind, Amadeus had no such problems. He needed to know what he was dealing with—and just because he wanted to know. It was hard not to be curious when every time he looked at Rhys he couldn't help but think of how young he seemed to be. Why did Henry not wait until he was a bit older to turn him?
"What was the relationship between you and Henry? Were—are—you lovers?" They didn't know for sure yet what had happened to Henry so it was probably best to keep things to present tense for now Amadeus supposed.