[His ears prick upright in interest at that- that this stranger also has little interest in the political intrigue that seems to dominate the Garlean royal court. Of its vast number of heirs and bloodlines all snapping at the throne like ravenous beasts slavering away at collar and bit.
It’s hardly unexpected- Ze has already met one noble child of similar inclinations- preferring his books and drawings to the games of intrigue his family would rather him invest his time in. It is simply that he did not expect it from one older and more weathered. Surely those who have no interest in the game would seek to remove themselves from it once they were in a position to do so? For their own safety and sanity if nothing else.
Or perhaps this is “must be” the other spoke of earlier, once more begging the question of who it is that holds this man’s leash.]
His mother. [Ze repeats, following nonetheless and seemingly having little trouble keeping up with Emet’s longer stride. Mayhap something to do with the other’s slouching posture while Ze remains briskly upright and swift on his feet. (Not at all to do with the cold, of course not.)] You knew of her? [Is what he asks as they walk, finding himself curious despite his better judgment. In all that he had been forced to learn, teachings of her had been so brief as to be non-existence while whole days had been spent on Varis. (He had skipped the last two. Rather deliberately.)
Even knowledge that Zenos’ looks took after that of his mother was unexpected information.]
no subject
It’s hardly unexpected- Ze has already met one noble child of similar inclinations- preferring his books and drawings to the games of intrigue his family would rather him invest his time in. It is simply that he did not expect it from one older and more weathered. Surely those who have no interest in the game would seek to remove themselves from it once they were in a position to do so? For their own safety and sanity if nothing else.
Or perhaps this is “must be” the other spoke of earlier, once more begging the question of who it is that holds this man’s leash.]
His mother. [Ze repeats, following nonetheless and seemingly having little trouble keeping up with Emet’s longer stride. Mayhap something to do with the other’s slouching posture while Ze remains briskly upright and swift on his feet. (Not at all to do with the cold, of course not.)] You knew of her? [Is what he asks as they walk, finding himself curious despite his better judgment. In all that he had been forced to learn, teachings of her had been so brief as to be non-existence while whole days had been spent on Varis. (He had skipped the last two. Rather deliberately.)
Even knowledge that Zenos’ looks took after that of his mother was unexpected information.]