Rohaan had always been at odds with soldiers since the day he knew they existed. It was only the way of things, as normal to Rohaan (and them, for that matter) as the long standing enmity between dogs and cats. He had very little love for them. But in Erik of Strosberg, at least, he found someone who he preferred to do business with compared to types like Karl Valdemar. Weathered soldiers were usually blunt, straightforward, and he always knew where he stood with them. There wasn't so much subterfuge, manipulation, or pomp when dealing with soldiers. In another universe, perhaps they could have gotten along well. But that universe did not exist. Still, Rohaan wasn't a complete monster. If they were going to act civil, he could too.

The blonde's upper lip twitched at the word 'babysitters'. He couldn't think of a more accurate term, and some impish part of him  felt like flying off the first day to get to Last Vigil early and maybe spend a few days in peace. But then that would be leaving Ash, and right now she was more important than his petulant rebellion. She was valuable, and the key to gaining freedom for his people. There would be so much more work to do after that, but it would be a start. He needed her alive, and he'd see to it she made it. 

A slow, cold smile spread across Rohaan's lips as he looked at Erik. "Tell your men to stand down and behave themselves, and I won't have to [I]eat[/I] any of them." The logistics of actually eating someone alive was never worth it, no matter what form he chose, but Erik probably didn't know that. No one did. That was a bit of knowledge only gained from an honest, impulsive try. But he'd let them all think he was capable of it. At the very least, it would make them all think twice about trying to harass him. He shrugged lightly. "Of course, feeding me helps too..." 

Rohaan nodded to Ash, then made an unfamiliar hand gesture at Erik that, despite being foreign, had a distinctly and uncharacteristically polite air to it. Was it thanks? Respect? Or curt and indifferent dismissal? Rohaan and Ash made a beeline towards the cache of food laid out. It was no king's table, but that was fine by Rohaan. He knew the value of a simple, honest meal. Especially a hot one. There was a black iron kettle of a basic stew made with what looked like rabbit, potatoes, and some onions that Rohaan was especially excited about, though he made sure to take a heaping plate of the other provender too. Like a raccoon with a specially good prize, Rohaan stole away with the food inside the tent that had been set aside for them instead of opting for a table out in the open. He sat on the floor with a gratified sigh and used one of the low cots as a table. Despite having handily raided Ash's supply of food earlier, he ate with the ravenous fervor of a feral dog. And he really could eat a lot, more than one might expect for a man his size. But when he finally had his fill, he moved the wooden plate and bowl off the cot and threw himself down on it like it was a feather bed. 

It was only then that he spoke, his eyes closed. "You got any injuries or anything that need tending? Now's the time. If you've got any deep cuts, I've got a salve that will help keep infection out. It would be a pity if I brought you all that way just to deliver you with a fever or a festering wound or something. Probably wouldn't get paid." A thought popped into his head, and he cracked one cobalt eye open. "You realize you'll be future Emperor some day, right? Er, Empress. I wonder...would you uphold the deal we made, Valdemar and I?" He studied her through that one eye as best he could. "Because I didn't ask for gold. Nohoo, I'm not swayed by gold. Useless to me anyway. The price for my services is a far more complicated thing to give. But would you still give it if Valdemar kicked over a week from now?" He wanted to know what sort of ruler she'd be, and if she considered a deal to be a deal, regardless of what the deal actually was.