[ social grace is what he's been raised for--even if he does look more a child than ever, with his floppy bow and stockinged feet. but he maintains his composure even so, and nods when he's told where to sit. he does so without hesitation, settling on the nearest sofa and crossing his legs primly. he misses his boots already. ]

Yes. I trust you and my aunt enjoyed a pleasant evening.

[ how has he been? terrible. loathsome. bitter. but social grace will not allow him to say such things. ]

Short of hand. [ is what he decides on. he has to take a steadying breath before he continues. ] I have dismissed Sebastian from my service, for the time being. [ he says it so nonchalantly, though it is not. but it sounds so simple, like that. anger and shame still wrench at his gut, and it is all he can do not to curl his fingers into tiny shaking fists. ]