[The barb stings little for anyone with sense would know why he’s on his guard, even if there are those who would caution him to not make it so obvious.
More than that, he was not born for luxury- opulence and riches settling as well with him as water to oil. It stifles him much the same as anything in the past few weeks has- suffocating and needless. Not for the first time he thinks one of the others might have been better suited to the task after all, if only for the point of diplomacy. Aymeric would not have struggled so with something as simple as table etiquette and Hien would have likely found worth in their history. (He consoles himself with the fact Lyse would have likely handled it all about as poorly as he is.)
It is those quiet thoughts that mire him in a haze of slowly building depression- the lack of sun in this frozen land hardly helping. It is also not words he can put to voice, for that is not his way and he knows the Twins are worried enough as it is. Only passing messages from the Scions outside and the Alliance beyond are keeping his spirits afloat at this point.
As they come to a halt at the road, he glances once more at the station Emet had made mention of- observing it with as much interest as he had the first time he laid eyes upon it. There is a glimmer of tapered curiosity in his gaze as he inspects it once more- trailing over track and rail. There are no trains at the moment but he had glimpsed them when he had first seen the couple off- had watched it vanish down the line like a metal snake, veiled sunlight glinting off the carriage as it winked away to a place unknown. Unbidden curiosity flares up within his soul and sparks a glow perhaps familiar to Emet-Selch, however muted, but it is swiftly folded back and away as he pulls his gaze from the structure.
Wanting, yes, but remembering his duty. Garlemald has surprised him everyday, but he cannot help but be reminded he would have enjoyed it more were it not a potentially looming cage.
He nods instead to this stranger at his side and falls in-line with them, shuddering once and readjusting the jacket about his shoulders. The weather is practically mild by default but it hardly changes the chill. Suspicion does not leave his gaze but he is already resigned to the matter of having to accompany him.]
You’re beginning to sound eager to see me off. [The remark is mild but the tone is not. As simple a “leave it alone,” as he can make without outright accusing the other of it.]
no subject
More than that, he was not born for luxury- opulence and riches settling as well with him as water to oil. It stifles him much the same as anything in the past few weeks has- suffocating and needless. Not for the first time he thinks one of the others might have been better suited to the task after all, if only for the point of diplomacy. Aymeric would not have struggled so with something as simple as table etiquette and Hien would have likely found worth in their history. (He consoles himself with the fact Lyse would have likely handled it all about as poorly as he is.)
It is those quiet thoughts that mire him in a haze of slowly building depression- the lack of sun in this frozen land hardly helping. It is also not words he can put to voice, for that is not his way and he knows the Twins are worried enough as it is. Only passing messages from the Scions outside and the Alliance beyond are keeping his spirits afloat at this point.
As they come to a halt at the road, he glances once more at the station Emet had made mention of- observing it with as much interest as he had the first time he laid eyes upon it. There is a glimmer of tapered curiosity in his gaze as he inspects it once more- trailing over track and rail. There are no trains at the moment but he had glimpsed them when he had first seen the couple off- had watched it vanish down the line like a metal snake, veiled sunlight glinting off the carriage as it winked away to a place unknown. Unbidden curiosity flares up within his soul and sparks a glow perhaps familiar to Emet-Selch, however muted, but it is swiftly folded back and away as he pulls his gaze from the structure.
Wanting, yes, but remembering his duty. Garlemald has surprised him everyday, but he cannot help but be reminded he would have enjoyed it more were it not a potentially looming cage.
He nods instead to this stranger at his side and falls in-line with them, shuddering once and readjusting the jacket about his shoulders. The weather is practically mild by default but it hardly changes the chill. Suspicion does not leave his gaze but he is already resigned to the matter of having to accompany him.]
You’re beginning to sound eager to see me off. [The remark is mild but the tone is not. As simple a “leave it alone,” as he can make without outright accusing the other of it.]