Zeke grinned at the response, slowly at first—but then more widely, showing that crooked, sharp set of teeth so strangely characteristic of his family. Her voice sounded familiar somehow, though for the life of him he couldn’t quite place it. Maybe if it hadn’t been so dark and his head hadn’t still been spinning so much from his discomfort at the ball (or all of Licia to be fair), he would have been able to figure out where or how he had heard it before. But he didn’t recognize those soft, girlish features or the long mass of hair that encased her.
“I am starting to notice a bit of a trend,” he admitted. Sure, he hadn’t been in the country for much more than a day. If her mix of formality and casual banter was found to be at all awkward by Zeke, he didn’t seem to notice. But, then, one awkward individual was hard pressed to notice similar traits in another. “You’re right though. After all—here we are.”
At the words she provided next, he nodded. “I’m not much of a swimmer, anyway.” Then, his brow furrowed at her apology. Zeke provided a shrug in return. “Nah. I think out of the two of us, I’m clearly the one out-of-practice in terms of formality.” But, hey, maybe he’d get better with some practice, some patience, and a bit more time out of the Third Realm. Only time would really tell. And perhaps a kick in the pants.
With invitation, Zeke came closer and took a seat, plopping down with a wince of regret at his lack of care—the bruise on his abdomen as raw as it had been since it had been given to him earlier in the day, if a bit more purple. “Besides, I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t appreciate the sentiment.” Zeke loosened the top button of his jacket to give his neck a bit more give, and toyed with the unnecessary decoration on the edge of his sleeve.