Her thoughts were elsewhere, anywhere but here in the abysmal chill that nipped at her even through the thick furs that cloaked her shoulders. Her mind had wandered back to the ship that bore her here from across the sea, to the comforting creak and groan of the futtock as the waves brushed against the hull. It had been calming, a blissful ride, a paradise compared to living on the sand bitten streets. The days had been hot, miserable. The nights were frigid, yet without the lack of powdered white that dappled these ones. She thought she had been found, that she was returning home. That her ordeals and tribulations would be over. She could still recall the immense confusion she had felt as her mother had held her face within her hands and spoke to her in a language she could only barely understand a scattered word of. How she had smiled as the word home kept creeping across her tongue. Home. A place she couldn't remember but knew she longed for terribly.

Home.

A bittersweet sentiment now. One that felt more like a prison. It made her actually miss those filthy roads she sat at the side of. In comparison to this gilded cage and all its restrictive chains, that place offered whispers of freedom. Where her will could be her own, from the way she dressed and behaved to who it was she would spend the remainder of her life with. None would care there. She may have been nothing there, a worthless vagabond doomed to starvation and withering, but she would have been without what her mother had called familial duty. Death may have come, but it wouldn't find her an old woman, gray, aged and going blind from staring out a window all day. Watching the people unbound, becoming jealous of them. Telling the hours of the days forever by their comings and goings while she was kept under lock and key like her home was some ivory tower.

Her heart began to skip - to race. What was keeping her here? She had already slipped the watch of Aethelos. A thing she assumed to be a brittle thread if only to keep the complacency of their father. Peace of mind he had said. What peace of mind to him would it be should she be murdered or not? Married or not? Present or not? It wouldn't be. The notion had her numbed fingers coiling into the dense fabric of the gown she'd donned, pulling her hooded shawl tighter. She would leave, a course of action she assumed she had taken before. There were no kidnappers, were there? No sickness. No, her body was far too healthy even after the weeks, perhaps even months of starvation she had faced in that coastal city to belong to some sickly frail wilting flower. She had run away. She had chosen to leave this life behind and be free. Something had happened though, something she could not recall. She would repeat it. She would vanish into the breaking day, but this time she would not be taken back into custody.

“Afraid the shops don’t tend to open until about mid-morning. Might be a bit before anyone comes to set up.” She nearly swallowed her tongue as she gasped audibly, followed by a slight cough at the influx of frigid air. She whirled, boots nearly tripping over one another before she caught herself. Her face flushed as she looked upon the face of the one who had addressed her. A slight smile crossed her lips as her cheeks further burned, pale eyes turning downward. "F-forgive me. I-I must look f-foolish." Was it lost she looked? Lost, confused? Neither a wholly wrong description. “Were you trying to find something?” She bit the inside of her cheek slightly, vision returning to his face as she searched his countenance for a brief moment. "N-no. Not part-ticularly." She would pause, her mouth opening before closing, debating her next words somewhat carefully before simply settling on. "I'm just l-leaving." The words were just above a whisper regardless.

“There is nothing to forgive.” His voice was soft when he spoke, a far cry from the loud and harsh barking at the Beleveron manner. Her father was almost always red faced with spittle eking through his clenched teeth when he scolded her. Her mother, while her face retained civility, was no kinder when she spoke out of line. When she objected to things. That's just the way things are was an impassable wall. Like a wave hitting against the coastal cliffs. And while her tutor seemed to be a nice woman, years of teaching seemed to have been unkind to her voice as well. She often sounded like a squawking bird. She felt her shoulders relax slightly, a genuine smile blooming gently along her cold bitten lips.

“Have somewhere to be? The markets may not be open but there are plenty of all nighters to duck into, most don’t mind if it’s just to warm up for a bit.” No, she didn't suppose she had any place in particular to be. No clear idea of where her feet would take her from here. Part of her wanted to go back to where they had found her. She felt as though she had a clearer mind, a chance at a better life there now. She could search there for the answers she felt she so desperately craved.

However, in the meantime, she was quite frigid, and the thought of warming up somewhere was indeed quite appealing. "A warm place would be ap-preciated." She murmured, offering a nod of thanks, though her cheeks would stain a further pink. "W-would you be so k-kind as to guide me to o-one? I-I'm afraid I d-don't know my way ar-round much." Oh, to even have a basic idea of her surroundings would be a boon to her. A thought that already had her debating her choice to run while she could, while she evaded the close watch of her brother. She certainly didn't want to owe any of them an explanation for her whereabouts - or potentially bring this stranger into the monotony of her family's sordid affairs. She had to make up her mind: leave, or stay. To the world, it made little difference, but to her, it could mean the world.

“It would be a pleasure,” His smile was just as warm as the invitation and it's promise of comfort. Remembering her teachings in the ways of niceties, she would offer him a prim curtsy. Her smile becoming more comfortable as she relinquished an appreciative hum in concurrence with his dismissal of any trouble. “Was just heading to one myself.” She would relax from her cordial bow, regardless of how it had been a slight one to begin with. "Then I-I suppose I caught you just at the r-right time."

She would wait for him, her expression unfading as he fell in stride by her. He seemed at first as though he was going to say something, a motion of his arm given, and yet it was shortly retracted as if perhaps he thought better. It was a sentiment she thought little about, not minding, or finding the offer of his guide to be at any manner of fault. Rather, it would give her a better sense of where she was and the things that surrounded her. It would give building's faces and names, the words she struggled to read still giving at least features she'd have otherwise never known. Peculiar were some of their titles, the way they hung shaped signs over the eaves of their doorways to rock and creak with the soft whisper of the wind. Some of them, her mind would offer understanding, weither it be by the carved and painted letters or the shapes themselves. There was one marked by the phial of a tonic brew. Some were announced by leaves and flowers, the scent of their wares sealing the speculation of what lay within.

His words, however, would briefly distract her from her observations. From the beginnings of her plan for freedom. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you new around here?” She turned her attention fully back onto her companion, her crown tilting as she pondered the proper way to answer the inquiry. Though she held her doubts he truly wished to dig so deep as to her speculations that she did not belong. “Don’t recall seeing you around before,” that would give her the best result, she supposed. "I've lived here all my life." The words came, a bitter lie that she was none the wiser of. To her, this was the gospel, for why would a mother and father lie to their daughter? "I've been s-sick ever since I was young." The simper that touched her face was but an echo of her prior one, of the true girl beneath the guise. "I-I probably shouldn't even be out now."

She didn't want to be any trouble, a stumble in her plotting. She didn't want to cause her family grief. If they would truly look for her like mad after her departure as they claimed they had when she had been kidnapped, she didn't want to be willingly responsible for their dreadful worry. Least of all, she didn't want her escapism to cause trouble for her brother either, regardless of their jagged reunion and his malicious cruelty. She understood that she had very apparently had a sordid past - one she wanted to right, not further wrong. Oh, to only run off waving the family banner and name in war instead of the battlefields of political marriage. That's just the way things are was not a suitable reason to her to be sold. Filling the family coffers when they had so much in blatant and gross excess made just as much sense to her.

“Stick close. You can pick the seating,” he would once again draw her to the present from which she had unintentionally drifted from. They stood outside a much more... noisy building. The sign that marked it had only two legible words given her rather limited literary vocabulary. Firewater. Not two separate words, but crammed together to make one, a somewhat foreign concept and they were chased by letter that held no meaning to her. However, it would be a lie to say she did not enjoy the painted shape in which it was so wonderful crafted in. Once within, she would sweep the gathered and the scenery itself in idle observation, though her footfalls drifted more towards a slightly quieter corner. “Specials are listed behind the keeper. If nothing catches your eye just ask over whatever you want,”  she would sheepishly wave her hand slightly to dismiss the thought. After all, her claim of being broke to her brother was certainly not in line with the other falsities that escaped her lips unknowingly. “Order whatever you like.” He offered and her cheeks would again stain slightly. "I-I couldn't." Came her sheepish rejection, unwilling to ask anymore of the stranger that had already offered his company and guidance.

It wasn't long, however, before the barkeep made his round, normal or not she couldn't fathom. She would offer him, too, a soft grin in greeting, one he returned with a sharp tooth smirked. His gaze rolled around to her promised guide only to land back on her, vocals impish as he spoke. "Here to sample the goat?" Her head would shake in negative, oblivious to the hinted taunting. "Oh no, th-thank you. I'm not hungry." Admittedly, however, she was already beginning to feel much better with the promise of a warm hearth tending to her frigid skin.

“You look well enough to me. If not a bit cold.” That smile didn't leave her mouth, albeit her cheeks flushed slightly more. The chill didn't seem to bother him as much. Nor did it make her family members shrivel at the thought of going outside, but her need for escape had proved stronger than her dread of the nipping cold. "I am very c-cold." Came the quiet admittance, perhaps too soft to be heard. Though it held more meaning than just the elements. The feeling went beyond her skin, to her very bones. To the blood that pushed its way through her veins. She'd been in this state since before she'd left the mansion. Since she had been delivered the news of her intended fate. Frozen, frigid. Like she shouldn't be able to move an inch. Like she had been left beneath the curtain of ice over a lake with no way to escape the deadly prison.

“You’re walking fine, talking fine.” Her gaze fell. He had no way of knowing, of course. This stranger who wore kindness like a cloak. One who had thus far been patient and helpful to her. He was unfamiliar with her, with this frustrating stammer not blooming from chattering teeth, but her normal speech. A soft hum left her. She knew better, however. It was a weakness that had already been picked at. Not only from her parents, but her brother now as well. She looked skyward, partially to avoid the fierce sting of tears and partly to simply look at the wide open space above her. It was something they didn't quite seem to understand, that she could not help the ways her mouth worked against her. The tightness in her throat not only present atimes when she was threatened with crying. It was a particularly sore spot for her father, his reason for keeping her from making many public appearances, yet her mother was content with it, though it was obvious she also held disdain for the sound. 'It's fine. Young ladies of the court are meant to be seen - not heard.' She had said, twirling wine within her cup, idle. Dismissive. As if that really did solve everything.

“Guess they finally let you get out and about though huh?” This drew her attention back to him, perhaps too quickly, too intently for the way she tried to pass it off with a laugh. She hoped it didn't sound as nervous to him as it did to her own ears. Ones that began to burn lightly. “Are they expecting you back at a certain hour?” Oh, surely they were. It made her gaze swivel unconsciously over her shoulder, back the way she had traveled, before she even crossed paths with him. "No. They didn't s-say." It wasn't a lie, so she was able to keep it sincere in her tone. They hadn't said, because of course she had not even dreamt of asking. If she had her way, she would never ask them for another thing. She just had to keep going once she got warm. “Wouldn’t want to get you into any trouble by keeping you away,” at which she would shake her own head. "It would be my own doing." If she was caught. If.

As she settled into the booth, her attention would drift along the features of her guide. A slight study now that they were seated and no longer just passing in the street. Her hands settled upon the table's surface before her, fingers coiling with one another to halt the nervous picking they oft did. “You sure? Promise the food’s good here.” His voice drug her back from glancing out the window and back to him. His ears had moved, a fascinating thing, and she didn't know how she had missed them previously. She supposed she had simply assumed them to be an ornament rather than true anatomy. “Sometimes the drinks too… though that depends entirely on who’s making them.” Again, she would give him a smile, her head tilting with the expression softly. "It's alright. I had dinner b-before I left." She didn't call it home. It didn't feel like home. A cell. A gift box for another. She was finally becoming familiar once again with the halls and the faces found within, only to be told she would be shipped off yet again. Her chest, no, her heart ached at the thought of having everything torn from her once again.

“It’ll warm you up faster than the hearth alone.” She didn't particularly like the sear of alcohol, or perhaps it was simply the taste of her family's choosing. Truthfully, she would rather have water or something else, but the promise of it serving to warm her was a touch too tempting to let slide. "Maybe a drink. I -hmm- y-you can pick." She hid the uncertainty behind an offer, holding a sense of abashment that she knew so very little of spirits, let alone how to properly order them. “You know what Fiero. Maybe I do.” She cast the man another look from her peripherals as he engaged the bar keep instead, and she had the stark sense that she had missed something. However, she didn't allow the thought to linger. “Sure you have any in stock?” It was followed by a moment of quiet as she allowed her sights to sweep betwixt the two in what she hoped was a nonchalant, or unnoticeable action, though she couldn't hide the slight hint of mirth that danced within them.

It wasn't until that flighty attention landed on her again that she fully allowed her stare to catch, “Holler if yer mind changes.” And she would merely dip her head deeply in acknowledgement, a sense of foreboding lacing her tongue with silence. She hadn't the cold now to help cover the fits of her stammering, and so she attempted to maintain her quiet. “Don’t pay Fiero too much mind. He can be a bit... pushy.” "Oh," she started, her words slowly, an effort and focus taken to steady her vocals. "He seems.... lovely."