Rei nods his assent to holding his tongue in check around the prince's family member, intending not only that, but to speak with them only when necessary. It is clear by the young man's statements throughout their short time together that the fae is now an integral part of the princes life, whether he wishes such or not, and he feels no need to make his job more difficult by committing some social faux pas he has no knowledge of in the first place. [i]'If at all possible, I hope to have this young man at my side at all times possible. If there is need to talk to his family, I am sure he can pass on my words in a way suitable to their liking'[/i]

His eyes once more travel to the trees, his hand coming up to make sure his hat is secure. “Before, when I showed you the scar upon my arm, you took pause, your countenance changing greatly from one moment to the next. I could not read you, though when alone with me you are mostly simple to understand. This pause reminded me of a question I posed to myself the night we met, and again last night when I went to check on you in the night.” He glances over at Alessandro, explaining himself quickly, but with an unhurried tone. “I did not sneak in, I walked in from the secret passage, my own natural light step keeping you from noticing me.”

His eyes flit from those of the prince to his shoulder then back to the trees. “As I was saying, my scar seemed to have affected you, reminding me of the ones I saw upon your own flesh. I recognize several of them as cane marks, having seen many an example of them not only in books, but with my own eyes on nobles and the like I have slain in the past. The man who raised me closest what the first to explain them to me, after a kill where first I saw them.” His gaze comes back down to look towards the prince. 

“I would like to know who has authority to use a cane on you, the crowned prince of this land. Not only so I do not kill them on accident thinking them a threat, but for my own curiosity over why one such as yourself, the second highest station in the land, not including you mother, would be struck thusly. One wrong swing delivered harder than intended and you could be crippled, even killed on accident. . .” His voice trails off, his gaze resting steadily on the young man. The light plays across his face in patches, making his skin almost seem to dance to the fae's eyes.