The servants of the Astalian palace dutifully escorted the Jörda prince to his quarters, although they’d initially seemed perplexed that he’d appeared alone in this area of the palace it was quite easy to assume he’d gotten lost. Erick paid particular attention to the turns and landmarks en route to ensure he’d remember this section of the building, and if more drinking were to occur he’d be avoiding that damned Afdan wine.. 

The prince took a deep breath of Astalian air as he stepped from the entrance of the palace, making his way to the stables, the salty marine scent mingled with the foreign smells of the surrounding city - the smell of horses though, never changed. Erick felt a little better after bathing - of which the Jörda people were most conscious and thorough - and reassured himself that a gentle ride, with gentle talk, with a gentle lady would be an easy and pleasant morning. His clothes for riding were particularly understated, with a light linen belted tunic and loose pants, these were paired with woollen leg wraps and low cut boots, he still wore several articles of gold however which made his station quite apparent. For comfort, he’d rolled his sleeves to bare his forearms, which were as scarred with old nicks as his face, and silver beaded charms were lashed to his wrists with leather bracelets. Upon entering the stables, Erick soon caught site of Jinayah despite the sheer size of the yard - she was tending to her steed, all the while whistling and scuffing her feet through the dust in a most choreographed way.

“Very beautiful” he stated aloud, Jinayah had her back to the prince and there was some part of him that hoped to surprise her, perhaps too he could fluster her with the slight ambiguity of the statement.