[He stiffens in shock- stiffens in a way he has no business doing considering he has never once dropped his guard while in Garlemald, yet somehow still managed to be surprised by the stranger’s approach. (The shadows ‘neath tired eyes are not there for decoration, dammit.)
Tension bolts like lightning down his spine as he reaches for his blade and turns upon the speaker with all the preparedness of a man in the face of a threat- hood whirling from his face as he does so to expose those ears to the cold.
It’s a Garlean, that much is obvious to his gaze. It is in his height and the way he towers over Ze. It is in the eye upon his brow, denoting a pureblood... but it is his clothes that mark him royalty- the finery of their stitch and the decorations adorning the breast of his coat. Ze had not spent hours upon hours being forced to stare upon the portraits of the royal line all for naught, and it is easy enough to place the decorations and the colorations.
Intriguing, then, for not even Varis had bothered with him- their interactions amounting to at most a distant, passing glance and a scoff. So what should an unnamed royal be doing here upon the outskirts of their precious town, if not for mischief?
Carefully- not having forgotten the skill with which he was taken by surprise- Ze releases the handle of his zweihänder and straightens, though his gaze takes on no less a wary tone.]
…I know. [His tone is careful and withdrawn. He does know, some task or another having taken him that way yesterday. A hesitant pair of lovers fleeing their oppressive parents, if he recalls correctly.] I am where I must be. [He adds as the wind picks up and he flinches for it but stands his ground. It is not the first time he has endured the bitter cold, after all. Garlemald is frozen, yes, so was Coerthas when he had arrived, and he had become accustomed all the same. Ilsabard will not break him.
The man before him, on the other hand...]
You are far from the heart of the city at such an hour. Without even so much as an escort at that. [He remarks, a vague gesture of the hand at the empty streets around them. He cannot sense anyone else, but he begins to wonder if perhaps the cold or exhaustion has dulled him.]
no subject
Tension bolts like lightning down his spine as he reaches for his blade and turns upon the speaker with all the preparedness of a man in the face of a threat- hood whirling from his face as he does so to expose those ears to the cold.
It’s a Garlean, that much is obvious to his gaze. It is in his height and the way he towers over Ze. It is in the eye upon his brow, denoting a pureblood... but it is his clothes that mark him royalty- the finery of their stitch and the decorations adorning the breast of his coat. Ze had not spent hours upon hours being forced to stare upon the portraits of the royal line all for naught, and it is easy enough to place the decorations and the colorations.
Intriguing, then, for not even Varis had bothered with him- their interactions amounting to at most a distant, passing glance and a scoff. So what should an unnamed royal be doing here upon the outskirts of their precious town, if not for mischief?
Carefully- not having forgotten the skill with which he was taken by surprise- Ze releases the handle of his zweihänder and straightens, though his gaze takes on no less a wary tone.]
…I know. [His tone is careful and withdrawn. He does know, some task or another having taken him that way yesterday. A hesitant pair of lovers fleeing their oppressive parents, if he recalls correctly.] I am where I must be. [He adds as the wind picks up and he flinches for it but stands his ground. It is not the first time he has endured the bitter cold, after all. Garlemald is frozen, yes, so was Coerthas when he had arrived, and he had become accustomed all the same. Ilsabard will not break him.
The man before him, on the other hand...]
You are far from the heart of the city at such an hour. Without even so much as an escort at that. [He remarks, a vague gesture of the hand at the empty streets around them. He cannot sense anyone else, but he begins to wonder if perhaps the cold or exhaustion has dulled him.]