[color=Firebrick][u][img]https://i.imgur.com/tXSgU2F.png[/img[/img][/u][/COLOR][hr][COLOR=#C0C0C0]The Barn[/COLOR]
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Since her mention of not serving the prince, a perplexed look had sat on his face, as though he had been presented with the most peculiar of riddles. It lingered there until she finally gave her name.

It suddenly all made sense. That gnawing familiarity in those soft, feminine features—she was more than just another Aurelian.
"[b][color=firebrick]Ah ha! Thalia Evercrest![/color][/b]" he exclaimed, slapping his pant leg with his free hand. Excitement broke through as the mystery unraveled before him. He knew he recognized that face from somewhere. And there it was, the striking juxtaposition of noble elegance, veiled beneath the rough disguise of a stablehand’s garb.

"[b][color=firebrick]Ah, yes. Evercrest,[/color][/b]" he said with a reminiscent air. "[b][color=firebrick]Your family reared horses, didn’t they? What became of them? I remember the great estate from my younger days. Every lad wanted to ride an Evercrest.[/color][/b]" He smiled distantly, lost in memory. "[b][color=firebrick]How [i]is[/i] your mother, by the way?[/color][/b]"

A gradual, childish smirk crept across his face. The not-so-subtle innuendo added a cheeky youthfulness to his features, carrying with it fond memories of old times. He grinned foolishly, as if he alone held a private secret, or a rather clever dirty joke.
Thalia would be able to see the path of his thoughts, the road of memories quickly darkening. His features shifted, telling a silent story as youthful joy faded to a sorrowful sigh, morphing into a hybrid of regret and grief. Cutting the journey short, fleeing the ghosts waiting at its end, he cleared his throat and pulled himself back to the present, his gaze returning to her. Thalia Evercrest.

"[b][color=firebrick]Yes, my brothers used to say…[/color][/b]" he began enthusiastically, clinging to a spark of joy, but his words faltered as his eyes settled on her. He stopped abruptly, as though remembering who it was he was truly speaking to.
"[b][color=firebrick]Ah well, we used to say many things. Nothing of importance though. Forgive my rambling. I’ve spoken with too few of late, and it can be difficult to let go of brighter days gone. I... well, I suppose I don’t need to explain that to you.[/color][/b]"

He looked her over once again, sympathy in his eyes, a false smile on his lips. His gaze seemed to notice every smudge of dirt, drop of dung, and clump of straw. He did not see the confident, spirited woman beneath only the simple farmhand before him. A noble reduced to a servant, something he could not reconcile. They were two entirely different things, after all. How was he to treat her now? It was a perplexing moral conundrum.

"[b][color=firebrick]If I recall... were you not nearly engaged to the prince himself?[/color][/b]" were the words he spoke. Yet beneath them lingered the unspoken question: '[i]What foul misfortune has befallen you?[/i]'
There was a hint of concern in his voice. If it could happen to her, it could happen to any of them, right.
'[i]Was it because of this place? Might it happen to me as well?[/i]'

So unsure of what to do with this revelation, so uncertain, he looked as though he might be on the brink of offering her coin out of sheer sympathy.