[Bren's eyes caught on that book -- one that he'd loved as a child, the pang of something that ran even deeper than simple nostalgia. He shifted closer by inches towards the fire burning so warmly in that hearth, sighing a soft relieved sound at the wash of that heat over him, as if the heat from the fire itself could cleanse him.

He looked back as Essek spoke. Oh.

Was it really okay for him to stay in this room then, given that symbolism.]

It's a very good room, nicer than I have ever seen.

[Really. He'd be fine in a coat closet with a blanket at this point, but he would not turn down a real bed and a warm fire. He hesitated before saying, softly.]

I'm sorry, for your loss.

[It was clear that however long ago that Lord Thelyss had lost his husband, so much of the man was still here. The burning fire, the untouched library. But Bren knew that love could inhabit hearts and homes long after death parted lovers.

Ducking his head in gratitude, he offered another grateful smile, small and tentative like he was still getting the hang of the expression again.]

Thank you. If it is not too much to ask, scissors and a razor would be very much appreciated.