M
Mufi
Guest
Original poster
((Hope they went well!))
This certainly wasn't Alaric's first choice. Already he had second thoughts, and yet... where else could he turn? Those nearby and loyal to him would be having their own problems soon, and anyone out of reach of the usurper... was also out of Alaric's reach. His own gaze rested on the castle for a long moment, and a frown rested on his lips as it did.
Hallendar was indeed quite the journey. He'd made it before - but that was with a company of horse and a wagon train. Not exactly the same sort of circumstances. The frown deepened as Scarlett detailed what they'd need, though Alaric didn't interrupt her.
When she made mention of her contacts, he glanced in her direction. The frown eased slightly, in combination with a small lift of his brows. She brought more than he thought to the table. Good... but then he stiffened as she questioned her payment. James Alaric Christophos was a prince of Zatherin. His word was his bond, and he did not go back on his bargains.
He was also, a small voice in his head reminded him, on the run and hiding from those who wished him dead. Now was not the time for a royal tirade.
Alaric looked away from Scarlett, back to the castle. He was silent for a long moment. What could he offer her? His assurances were worthless, that much was obvious. He might trust his with his royal person, but he could not trust her with his name, and so how could she trust his words? These were the words of a refugee, not a royal proclamation signed and sealed.
Ah. There was something he could give her. Alaric frowned. He didn't like this option. It placed far too much trust on the mercenary. And yet... "I could provide an earnest."
He forced his frown under control, the impassive face of a prince hearing disputes at court as he looked back to her once again. "An item, of sufficient value to cover the costs you incur and your wages, held by you as your guarantee of my payment."
This certainly wasn't Alaric's first choice. Already he had second thoughts, and yet... where else could he turn? Those nearby and loyal to him would be having their own problems soon, and anyone out of reach of the usurper... was also out of Alaric's reach. His own gaze rested on the castle for a long moment, and a frown rested on his lips as it did.
Hallendar was indeed quite the journey. He'd made it before - but that was with a company of horse and a wagon train. Not exactly the same sort of circumstances. The frown deepened as Scarlett detailed what they'd need, though Alaric didn't interrupt her.
When she made mention of her contacts, he glanced in her direction. The frown eased slightly, in combination with a small lift of his brows. She brought more than he thought to the table. Good... but then he stiffened as she questioned her payment. James Alaric Christophos was a prince of Zatherin. His word was his bond, and he did not go back on his bargains.
He was also, a small voice in his head reminded him, on the run and hiding from those who wished him dead. Now was not the time for a royal tirade.
Alaric looked away from Scarlett, back to the castle. He was silent for a long moment. What could he offer her? His assurances were worthless, that much was obvious. He might trust his with his royal person, but he could not trust her with his name, and so how could she trust his words? These were the words of a refugee, not a royal proclamation signed and sealed.
Ah. There was something he could give her. Alaric frowned. He didn't like this option. It placed far too much trust on the mercenary. And yet... "I could provide an earnest."
He forced his frown under control, the impassive face of a prince hearing disputes at court as he looked back to her once again. "An item, of sufficient value to cover the costs you incur and your wages, held by you as your guarantee of my payment."