It was a large surprise to hear a different voice than what he'd first expected. It wasn't soft and shivering from the chilled air, but instead it was dry, masculine and indicated a body already used to how cold the air was. Roran paused carefully. He'd need a reason to visit, and he wasn't quick with his wits. The blonde watched the door open to the face of one of the few people he would have been glad to see. Olivere was the last on his list, however, Derrin was and had always been somewhat kinder; at least in his eyes. He couldn't talk to Ysabel with Derrin by his side, not without risking his own life and hers. He looked up at the healer and tried to concoct a smile, something to make his visitation seem trivial. 

Much to his surprise and relief, Derrin provided his trivial reason without thought. There were no orphan girls within Cannor, they usually ended up in the docking bays to the West, sitting on ships before they were fourteen. Roran tried to look even the slightest bit embarrassed, instead he pulled of a guilty look. He bowed his head for a moment and nodded. 
"I'll see to it she's rested properly." He commented. Eyes glanced between Derrin and Ysabel, watching how still she seemed to lay. He flicked his sights back to his healer and elder, spotting Ysabel move in the corner of his eyes. He stepped aside from the door to allow Derrin to leave. The conversation and questions he needed to ask would have to wait until he was sure Derrin had moved from the door and disappeared upstairs. Neither of them were safe, keeping Ysabel's potential talents secret could easily be trialed as treason, despite everything.

Roran shut the door slowly, watching Derrin move away from the door. He pushed the wood hard against the stone and lifted the lock. The door shut and Roran waited. He needed to make sure she was safe. He paused, listening for footsteps. Nothing. The blonde turned and stood by the doorway. The exchange would be awkward, he was prying and assuming. 
"Are you alright?" He asked, stepping further into the room. He wouldn't sit himself down without permission, he was already overstepping boundaries. The last thing he needed was to find out she'd been hurt or they'd force the truth out. Ysabel looked okay, healthy almost. Of course Roran was worried, it was certainly hard not to be. "I assume they do not know?" He asked, glancing back at the door. His voice did display an hint of his own confusion.

 If it was all true, Ysabel was a fairy story, an ancient legend of the King's Before. She was not real... The Gods were dead, everyone knew that. Yet Ysabel was potential disproof. Why now? They'd been dead for so long, why did they choose to return now? His head hurt thinking about it. He wasn't a Seer, he couldn't talk to the Gods. There was no way he could ask them, not without going South; that trip would take months more than were available. 

((Apologies for the length, I'm slowly getting my muse back.))