[b][center][h3][color=orange] Lein [/color][/h3][/center][/b] [hr] [b][color=orange]Location:[/color][/b] The Royal Ball [b][color=orange]Interactions:[/color][/b] Fleuri [@Crimson Paladin] Lost Girl? [@VitaVitaAR] [hr] Lein was surprised at Fleuri's candidness. He didn't expect Fleuri to give a proper answer, rather to merely brush things off and redirect the conversation. Which wasn't to say the honest recount was unwelcome, as familiar as it sounded. A departure of one's home, frustrated at one's own family. A journey to find glory and fame, and then a return home. Lein trusted little of faith but he understood what the name Reon meant to those who did - at least, enough to know that a pious supplicant could happily give up his epithet and all its glory. And all that for a chance to return back home. Homecoming. A memory of a taste thrusts itself unannounced betwixt the tang of the fruit punch. It is at once chillingly cold and warm like a still living, squirming thing. Metallic. Salty enough to prick one's scars. And it disappears as quickly as it came. The only acknowledgement of it is a confused twitching of Lein's ears, though it is soon washed away by the interruption of a little girl. A lost girl? Lein rustled as he laid his eyes on the child. It was a tentative description. Thoroughly out of place, for sure, with clothes that would fit someone twice her stature and belonging more so on the wild-claimed road than a furbished dance hall. He could take the easiest road and take what he sees for granted. Fleuri and Lein drop her off at a banquet or wave a guard down, drop the girl off to somewhere safe and resume their business. Or... She didn't dress like an urchin who somehow snuck into the venue, nor any noble figure he recognized. If she was indeed a lost child, wouldn't they be more likely to seek an adult they know or at least ask after a familiar face rather than "find the sweets"?. The vagueness of her proffer did play right into the handbook of a confidence trick. Besides - a name floated up in his mind with a matching bedraggled and cynical side-eye - children were far more crafty than most people would give credit. And just as Lein was actually starting to enjoy himself in this god-awful place. Hopefully it was just Lein's nerves getting the better of him. Whether Fleuri of the same opinion, Lein couldn't tell. At least, he seemed to act as if he took the girl for granted. Lein wasn't sure. Not quite yet. A conglomerate of yet unnamed logic hissed a warning at him, but it would be far too early to veil now. He'll just have to make sure to keep a lookout now, and cover both his bases. [color=orange]"Must we?"[/color] The look on his face was playful as ever. Smitten, even, as Lein laid a hand on Fleuri's shoulder. The grip from his dead hand, warmthless and animated with fickle strings, was anything but. It was a grip strong enough to press each bone digit through the fabric of his gloves, its pressure hidden from view by Lein leaning on Fleuri's shoulder. The same kind of tension from a sailor hauling the rigging, eyes keen on an approaching storm. Hopefully, it served as alarm enough that Lein wasn't entirely on board. [color=orange]"An interlude, then. For you my dear Knight I shall spare a moment, but I expect recompense in full afterwards."[/color] Lein withdrew and smiled cordially at the girl who approached then. [color=orange] "Good evening, young lady. My name is Cteline, and though I am neither the hostess nor the master, please make yourself at home. Come, let's allow our lovely charge to lead us."[/color]