Timrin nods and smiles warmly, motioning for two glasses and a corkscrew from a nearby servant.
As he lovingly opens the bottle as he talks, "This is Twilight milday. A rich and flavorful deep purple wine made mostly from twilight grapes... hence the name. This particular bottle is aged five years; 1367 was a particularly good year."
He offers her the cork and lets the bottle breathe for a moment.
"I swear you can almost smell the earth these grapes were grown in. It is beautiful Milady... rolling hills of a vibrant emerald green, deep black soil, a damp clinging fog lingering amonst the rows until the first rays of Lathander's light dispel them. Ahhh... simple... and beautiful", he finishes looking at her.
He pours two glasses and offers her one. He smells deeply of his, "I apologize for my foolish nostalgia Milady. This wine in particular reminds me of my childhood and my parents. Whenever I need a calm in the eye of the storm, this always seems to ground me."
He looks at the ground breifly and laughs at himself before once again meeting her gaze, somewhat embarassed. "Please, tell me what you think?"