Romeo's POV
"So I hear you have a powerful fine butcher around," Don asks her, and her hand freezes as she goes to tip the cup to her lips; I watch her swallow.
"Now that seems to be a pitiful face, presently doesn't it, brother?" Don says, pushing me.
"Extremely blameworthy. Do you have something to admit, love, need to get it out into the open before you meet your creator?" Don insults.
"What do you mean?" she says, and I click my tongue.
"I was wanting to do this the simple way. Haven't arrived for you, but rather if you need to be troublesome, I want a little practice, in any case; I haven't cut and diced for some time," I tell her, holding my hand out for Don's blades.
He pulls the rolled-up calfskin pocket from inside his cowhide coat pocket, giving it to me. I carry it out alo
