With little distance between her and Ghent, Elayra watched him with wary eyes for any sign he would strike out. She could not help but smirk at his demand of keeping her hands in sight and the paranoia visible in his eyes. “If I wanted to hurt you,” she crossed her arms loosely, “you’d already be dead.” When her inquiry about his father gained her a reaction, a sense of accomplishment flashed momentarily in her eyes before she pushed it aside. She had merely gotten his attention, nothing more. Elayra shook her head at the question about his father. “[i]I[/i] have never met him. But I know [i]of[/i] him.” She gave an annoyed frown at his unfinished threat, marking the third time he questioned the situation as such. “[i]This is no joke![/i]” she growled. “Ask however many times you wish, but it won’t change the answer!” She exhaled through her nose. Taking in his expression and sensing a mild, indecisive hostility in it, her eyes narrowed in a warning against acting upon it. As interesting as it would have been to her to find out how well he could fight, if at all, she had another, far more important objective at the moment. Elayra inhaled and held her breath when he finally answered her question of what he remembered. She glanced again to Drust with a spark of excitement and hope she feared to entertain for long; if he remembered being led by her guardian, perhaps the White Knight truly would be proof enough to dismantle the belief she was messing with him. “You remember Hollow Hill,” she breathed. She looked back to him. “And us. Drust,” she nodded toward the man, who could have been little more than a statue in the lawn, “and me.” She took a deep breath, biding her time as she debated. Finally, she uncrossed her arms. “I’ve grown. My face isn’t the same as it was fourteen years ago. But he has changed little. Perhaps [i]he[/i] will better help in jogging your memories.” She stepped slightly to the side so her companion was directly in sight. Drust’s head turned slightly as he looked to her. She held a hand up, indicating for him to keep his distance. She opened her mouth to address him, but he nodded--the action half nod and half twitch--and reached up to pull back his hood. He adjusted it quickly so the hilt of his katana was still easily accessible. The man’s Curse-tainted gaze shifted to the boy. Though Drust's expression retained its usual cold, hard appearance, Elayra had spent enough time with him to see the extra effort he was placing in keeping himself and the Curse under control glistening in his eyes. With her guardian now involved, Elayra dared spare Ghent only quick glances, keeping what she deemed the lesser threat more in her peripherals. “We were the ones with you the night you remember,” she continued, not giving him the time to respond. “And [i]that’s[/i] why I know your name. But it’s not safe to talk here, in the open. Especially with one of their,” she nodded to the cat with a glare, “kind listening in. I know it’s a lot to ask, but give us even an ounce of your trust for just tonight, and we’ll explain what we can.”