Lorne's eyes fell from the fancy-pants around him to the eye patch girl from before when she called out for him. It was almost nice to have someone so enthused to see him, although her judgement of the menu did dampen that feeling of joy. Bloody dark mages and their morbid obsessions. He raised his hand to wave back to her, but it was then that a volley of voices came flying at him. The first seemed to come from the lady at the head of the table, probably the leader of this high class social. Her words were... cold, as was the disdain her saw her in eyes. He even noted her hand was drifting towards her sword, as if to threaten him. He didn't like it. He didn't like the way she spoke to him one bit. It was talking like that which got you killed back in Ferox, but she was a lady. Didn't have to worry about any of that. The princess chiming in with an equally threatening statement didn't help either. Probably should've expected that, coming from the bluebloods. 

The fancy looking fellow he followed in also seemed to direct some words at him, namely to his identity. **"One of your soldiers."** He answered, placing his hands on the table and slowly pushing the chair he had sat upon away from the fine wooden furniture. **"'Spose you wouldn't want to dine with the people fightin' for your cause though."** He muttered as he rose from the chair, looking to the small lass to his side, one of the guards no doubt. At least she offered to show him out, rather than reaching for her spear. **"Think I'd like that. Don't really tell you where to go when you sign up."** The Feroxi said, gesturing towards the door for her to take the lead.