[ He's glad enough for conversation; market days are the only opportunity Aziraphale has to escape the chateau and the watchful eyes of his stepfather and stepsiblings. Best of all are the trips that take all day. His feet may grow tired and sore in the process, his arms aching from carrying heavy bags of food and drink and whatever trinkets his selfish stepsiblings may have demanded he seek out for them, but every minute away from those cold stone walls is a gift. And best of all - even his stepfather can't deny him a pause for a meal on those days, when he's out from sunup to sundown.
Said meal is meager enough, but Aziraphale is eyeing it as if it were a feast, as he heeds the young woman's wordless invitation and joins her at her table. At the offer, though, he only gives her a sad smile and a reluctant shake of his head. ]
b
Said meal is meager enough, but Aziraphale is eyeing it as if it were a feast, as he heeds the young woman's wordless invitation and joins her at her table. At the offer, though, he only gives her a sad smile and a reluctant shake of his head. ]
Oh - I'm afraid not. I wish I could.