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Date: 2019-06-01 11:39 pm (UTC)Jim knows he's veering off script here but he shoots anyone who looks at him askance a glance that Felix of all people knows. Nereus has figured out enough of the truth already, insisting on the lie wouldn't really do anyone any favors here and the man is their family. Marcella knows. Ushug knows. Terentius knows.
"I wasn't raised the way you were, Felix. The things that trouble me aren't the ones that bother you, I expect. All the Cyrodiil dialect I know your sons have taught me so I apologize if I sound more like they than myself. I'll leave it to Stratos to determine how much I should tell. But I can't stand here and pretend to be something I'm not. I won't insult us both pretending to think you'd believe it."
Nor should he.
"Just let me tell him, Felix. Whatever Stratos thinks he should know, I'm gonna do it." His murmur to his betrothed is quiet but Jim doesn't hide it's strangeness either.
"I'm sorry. I've been practicing for months for this. I had rather hoped I'd be better at fitting in here than I seem to be." Jim's stomach churns for the idea that he's screwed this all up somehow. But he has, and he'll own it now that things are a mess. It's practically his specialty.