[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/HlrLlWx.png[/img]
[color=#dda0dd]Feasting Hall | Shula Castle
Interacting with:[/color] N/A[/center] 
[color=dda0dd]“And that is why you should never trust a woman’s word on whether she is married or not; it is much better to ask her husband.” [/color]

That got a chuckle. Eon finished his story and lounged into an easy smile, well-worn, skin-deep. A small crowd hugged close to him; their banal smatterings added to din that flared about them, their eyes searched hungrily for any scrap of approval. Even here he could not escape that oily ambition that shrouded men’s hearts and twisted deep beneath them like gnarled roots. Contempt hid itself behind the goblet he drained for too long. The drink touched his lips, or even swelled into his mouth, between his teeth, across his tongue, but he never swallowed a drop. When he lowered it, once more the smile hung over his face. 

Sweat, smoke and sin wove into smells of food to create a thick carpet of odour. The decision to sit with those beneath his station was borne of vain attempt to escape the political games and careful discussion. At least amongst the rabble there was some slight freedom, and they were entertaining in their ignorance. Of course, not all were witless peons. 

Another conversation began to brew, and Eon made to look as though he was interested. The man immediately to Eon’s left stepped up in the lull. There then came a thought from outside his mind. A slight, gentle thing, that flowed smoothly into his mind, a feather floating along the swell of the sea, heedless of depths beneath. 

[i]Must we linger? All here are crass and the beasts are no better; they foul the air. I will surely catch a disease.[/i] The thought that was not his own sounded young inside his mind, feminine and clear as a crystal chime, tempered by a sense of maturity that exceeded the youth. Ira. 

Without letting any of this touch his facade, Eon split his mind in two, focussing one half on the people, and one on his companion. 

[color=dda0dd][i]Of course. The blue-bloods shield their words. Here, people will give what they can, if they think I am important. And they do. It is prudent to feel out the tensions in this hall. It makes travelling easier if we know where treachery lies, and where foul weather broods, and where war shall soon carve into the peace. [/i][/color]

His mind was still, a mirror-pond. Outside, he laughed with the crowd, and made a facetious remark that brought more titters. 

[i][color=dda0dd]And if we get to know which fighters are favoured, we stand to gain more from our gambled coin, if our paintings do not sell so well.[/color] 

I know.[/i] The voice conceded. Her form shifted by his leg. He did not look down. 

[i][color=dda0dd]Not to mention I like the attention. [/color]

You are always too fond of it.[/i] Rue tinged the thought, like the wilt of a flower, as Ira’s mind retracted across the border, resting just outside Eon’s consciousness, rain on the other side of glass. 

With his whole mind returning to his audience, Eon could tell they were beginning to tire of the sweaty man who led them now, so he snatched their attention with both hands and had them wrapped around his little finger before he had even begun his next sentence.