[The grape incident lives in infamy, forever. Bring some nonmagical grapes to the Lumenarium next time just to snack on in front of the ministers, they'll love that. Palamedes snorts, giving him a nudge. Please, sir.]

When did you want to tell me? I must have been doing something impressive.

[You know, as if his phone call wasn't just in the middle of a serious conversation. It's fine, tell him the gossip about himself, he loves to hear it.]

And you do. You make this face, [he wiggles his fingers, A Face that is Made, this isn't purposely vague.] It's a dead giveaway.