Cyrdic gave Camilla a smile that lip up his face, taking the grim soldier and turning it into the youthful man he was underneath the scars and experience. He was quite glad she thought he looked good, and felt more natural walking with her as they moved out of the rooms and into the halls. He blinked in surprise when Camilla dragged him to the side, and he nodded like a student at a University at her dancing explanation. He assured her, he'd do his best. 

The next few minutes, Cyrdic became the brawn to Camilla's brains in a fashion. When he wasn't speaking, he stood tall and strong, an imposing martial figure beside her to hammer her point in. "Get to it," he ordered to the men as they went off to announce them. Later, he would worry that it was his last words that had them announcing the way they did, but he was probably being paranoid. That being said, he felt very similar when they walked through the grand archway and into the large and extravagant, albeit utilitarian chamber. Shallya's tits," he uttered, simultaneous with Camilla's curse. 

Cyrdic faked a grin, waving his hand in a dismissive flair. "Please," he said, and spoke again over the roar of applause. "Please! We're honored enough to be invited to the Graf's ball. Let us feast and drink, for Ulric and the Empire!" There was a surety to his voice that the surrounding guests and nobles approved of, and he realized there was a reason he didn't feel entirely out of place in Middenheim. They were short on words (for the most part), as Ostland was. He noticed the Graf was not here at the moment, though the Chamberlain had said he often didn't attend such things. 

Cyrdic guided Camilla to the left as the crowd began to mingle. Jiselle's eyes were on them, but for the moment Cyrdic and Camilla had been swallowed up by the floor. Suddenly, they bumped into an exceptionally tall and blonde, dashing popinjay with a Wissenland accent. He had a raven haired women who had the haughtiness of a vampiress attached to his arm. "Ah, so you're the two heroes?" he asked rhetorically. "I say, however did you fight off that band of Ogre pirates? Or was it Orcs?" 

"Merely men, I heard," the woman said, her accent Reiklandish, if Cyrdic could guess. "Barely a skirmish. What could these two do that the Swords of Ulric could not?"   
[@Penny]