Khaylan chuckled a bit, looking over his shoulder and half smiling at her. "Its about as believable as anyone else's story," he said, "as it so happens, I do have a somewhat estranged cousin from overseas. His name is Eric, and he's a merchant... of sorts."

He hesitated for a moment, trying to find the correct words to explain it. "He deals in... well, unique herbs and spices. He claims half the court meets with him at one point or another but he's probably just blowing smoke around. He tried to set me up with some foreign girl months ago but I convinced him I was persuing interests elsewhere."

"A bandit attack would also explain why my armor is damaged," Khaylan continued, "all in all, we could do worse for a story."

They passed by the river bend, the horse's hooves clicking loudly against the increasingly solid ground as the roads became better the closer they got to the capital. The river was low at this time of year, deep enough for swimming but shallow enough to allow a horse and rider to pass through. As he looked over the water, tiny fish began to leap, swimming against the mild current. The silence stretched on again, and despite how strange the situation felt to him, he decided that riding in silence was even more uncomfortable.

"So... where are you from?," Khaylan said, looking back over his shoulder.