he shakeshis head, platinum hair aflutter as he moves. “not personally, nay - i should dread to!but his correspondence, on the other hand, which just so happens to deal with his riches, mind you, is positively dreadful. by fen’harel, his writing is weaker than my… nevermind.” he would speak of his sight, but it is not a topic he’d broach, something stewed far deeper within him that has been kept secret for centuries. “in any case, i am, in truth, glad that the earth be rid of that man.”
“He was a handful, but his right-hand man even more so. A dreadful nuisance; whilst I do not wish ill for any, I am glad they are not a watchful hawk upon my every action.” Certainly, he felt more freedom now than the years before. Bard turned to the elf fully, a brow piqued, likewise his curiosity. Friendship. Surely, the King has lived a lengthy life in comparison to the fragile and agile span of Man. “And no longer will you have to abide by his… writing, and you will have to tolerate the rough scrawls of my own."
