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 Theron raised an eyebrow, patting her on the head. Kids these days, huh? He chuckled, exchanging a glance with Dimitri. "It's a joke, Darling. Greeks never die because of their useless hobbies. Like triangles. Who studies triangles?" "Pythagroas. Hipparches. Caesar." Dimitri shrugged, staring forlornly at his now-empty teapot. Should he go get more or should he stay? Or should he go home, have a glass of wine and join the rest of 'family' in skulduggery. Or, well, you know. Preventing skulduggery. There was only so much domestic destruction he would tolerate in a day and shopping with Theron always had a way of pushing him right up to that imaginary line in the sand. "Caesar was the Roman emperor. We didn't like him, remember?" Theron snorted. "Damn Romans." "That's not very nice. Some of them were phenomenal people." "You're only saying that because you favourite boy is Roman. If he wasn't Roman you'd totally be joining in on my hate-fest." "Actually, no." Dimitri pointed to Aura. "Modern Italy is what remains of the Roman empire. If Madame Iacoluccis is Italian, she's probably descended from Romans. Which means you are being rather rude to our lovely companion." "If she's offended she'll just hit me like everyone else does." Theron wrapped his arms around her and grinned. "But she's not upset, are you, lovely?" |