"There's very little indulging, honestly," she tells him truthfully. "Or if it is, then we indulge each other from time to time and it's needed when it happens."

"Men always do awful things to one another in the name of man y things, but religion seems to be the one they choose most, isn't it? Religion and country, rather," she amends, tightening her arm through his. The snow is still falling but it's light and dry, landing on her nose and cheeks and tickling her skin. "It doesn't mean that they can't build things in the name of such as well, or that it can't mean more to us than we perhaps wish it to."

She's glad for a slight change in conversation, her smile growing. She tries to picture Henri meeting her Gran, and after the momentary horror, it pleases her. "I promise to not tell her if you don't."