Ian remained silent thoughtfully, swirling the foot of his glass between his long fingers.

 Eden no longer had the strength to talk to him, but good manners dictated that he try to maintain some semblance of conversation. 

He couldn't just sit there, sighing and sobbing, even if he was dying to do so.

“Excuse me, Milord, but... Were you close to your brother?”She  asked timidly. 

“-What you'd like to know, actually, is if I look like him, right?”

The question seemed to amuse him. A smile briefly animated the viscount's face, and Eden felt a slight shudder.

 It was a real spell, that smile. Especially associated with such eyes.

“Apart...