Elisabeth had forced the panicking man to stop and face her. She'd see the anxiety clear as trial upon his face, his eyes downcast, both in shame and fear. Ezner, the man who was perpetually still from his arcs of standing as such as a slave, was fidgeting, unable to stop moving. This was not that man. This was a shell, a shade, an echo of him. And he heard her whispering to him. But his eyes never found hers.

But still, he listened. He always listened when she spoke. And as he did, his hand reached out, finding hers, holding it softly, barely there, but still, needing that small sliver of a physical connection. Everything she said was truth. Facts. But right now, Ezner's heart was pounding in his ears, as it had been for many trials since he'd begun to live here. 

When she finished, he nodded. But he didn't speak yet. His head lifted, his eyes still not finding hers as he tugged on her hand gently pulling her into a tight embrace. He wrapped his arms around her own, trapping them to her sides as he squeezed her firmly. He was making sure she was there, truly and fully there. He wanted to feel as much of her as possible, to know that he truly wasn't alone. That he wouldn't still be alone the moment he turned away.

And he drew strength from her contact.

Still holding her, he took a deep sigh, stepping back. [b]"Come, please. I want to show you the ro.."[/b] he stopped himself, correcting, [b]"My room."[/b] He gave her hand a firm squeeze, having found it again, and began to pull her along, walking softly this time. He still had a racing heart and anxiety upon his sleeve, but he was tamping it down. Up the steps they went to a landing, and he took her through a door into a hall. All through this hall, it was clean, free of dust. But every door was firmly shut, save for two at the very end. He led her past the doors he'd opened once and never again. He led her past the bathroom he used, complete with a large, ivory tub as the centerpiece, and through the door to his room.

And once in there, he relaxed, a bit. It had very little adornment. A large bed befitting a king or other noble, with a big, fluffy, blue blanket, a large hearth tucked into the wall, ashes showing it was used regularly. A desk against a wall, and a window that overlooked the length of the property. [b]"This is... my first room."[/b]

He went over to the desk, pulling open a drawer. He reached inside, grabbing a slip of paper. He turned, handing it to Elisabeth. On it, in oversized scrawl, messy, not following any semblance of orderly lines, was the alphabet, in Adult and Child letters. And at the very bottom.

[b]"My name is Ezner. My friend's name is Elizabeth."[/b]