The World of Rhune

Hannah seemed to him to guess and push at his fraud figure, but he shoved it off, he never trusted anyone as prince. For all he knew, they could be planting something or stealing information or some ghastly thing; it’d happened often enough for him to be wary. Zayde assumed it was the same for Hannah. The princess, Crown Princess Zay reminded himself, led them out into the hall with regality. It seemed fake though, and he thought of what he knew of the princess to decipher what her angle was. His information store was so limited he came up with no answer, which was a rare experience for him, nearly making his guard slack as he puzzled himself. Hannah went into what he assumed was her brother’s chambers and he eyed his own at the end of the hall. His sister must be killing herself from being alone, locked in the room. He sincerely hoped she’d done nothing and hadn’t met Trei yet; he couldn’t fathom what would happen then. His face fell for a second at his fantasies but then regained as he heard Hannah start to come back. His position was a slack formal pose, it just seemed like the right thing to do, to play off what Hannah seemed to act like while keeping that castle/servant look on. He watched as she shivered, only barely, but he read people easily, too many years as a diplomat for is father. His eyes shot across her without detection and he caught sight of bare feet, and easy indicator of cold. He smiled inwardly, and then it froze as she asked him to lead her to the kitchen. He only knew of one kitchen in which he’d stumbled into on accident, but he remembered where it was, which surprised him. He was not a man of directions. The whole ‘what is it with men and stopping to ask directions’ after the man was lost, yet too stubborn to admit it was totally meant for him. “If you’re cold, you do realize there’s this new invention to keep them warm. It’s called shoes.” He twisted his heel of the leather boot he was wearing, but quickly resumed his earlier stature, not letting her comment. “Oh, and the kitchen, it’s this way,” he started off in the direction he’d stumbled in earlier, except a clean, cool mask replaced his earlier confusion that he’d worn on the path. He came up to the door, it was regal enough to be considered a well kitchen, and he just assumed if they couldn’t get a maid to serve Hannah, then he’d act like it was a joke, and play it from there. Oh Rah there’d better be a flipping servant or I’ll eat myself cause I will have no idea where a kitchen is besides here. Zay mentally ricocheted across the walls of his head, and he clasped the black wrought iron door, pulling the door ajar just enough to get through yet not to see the complete interior. “After you, Hannah,” he ushered his hand in the direction of the kitchen.