~~~Dunbar, Scotland.~~~

Morwyn awkwardly bowed in return -- she wasn't going to attempt curtsying in pants -- and hesitantly joined him by the fire.

"Well," she started slowly, "You'll forgive me for being frank, sir, but I am the illegitimate daughter of one of the, ah, lesser nobles. I'll think you'll understand if I don't want to name him. His wife was the jealous sort you see, and he feared for his reputation, but he had a kind heart so he sent my mother off where she'd be safely removed from those silly court politics. He paid for a tutor in secret and so I learned to write. Though I've always been more interested in sword fighting," she cleared her throat and stared at the ground, "which as you can imagine he never approved of." Morwyn figured the lie would be uncomfortable enough to discourage him from prying further.

She paused. "What makes you think the Scots aren't involved in that debacle you described? You don't trust your brother's judgement?" If there was trouble brewing between Scotland and Ireland she needed to know. She wouldn't want to get caught in Perth with that sort of tension going on.