𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁: 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙻𝙾𝙽 𝙶𝚁𝙴𝚈𝙹𝙾𝚈. he's nervous, and more than a little indignant, but keeping it under wraps. he bows before the king and stands tall again, his stilled hands clasped in front of him. for once, he does not fidget with his ring.
who was seated beside you during the feast and was conversation made with them ?
is there anyone who was not making conversation, my lord? i was among my men mostly, and had the pleasure of making the most merry conversation with lord [thain] harlaw in particular. his grace honored me with a seat at his table for a time thereafter, and while i would not dare speak for him, i'm certain he would agree that i made the very most of that blessed time and talked his ear right off, just as i am doing now. he tsks. a terrible habit, i'm afraid.
at what hour did you leave the feast ? were you alone or did another accompany you ?
harlon hesitates, gaze flitting to his grace and back in such quick succession that one would have missed it had they blinked. he swallows and, aiming for nonchalance, lifts one shoulder in some kind of half-shrug. i took leave once i'd had my fill of the honey cakes and others started trickling out. my family had already left by that point, so i sought out a friend — lord sebastian reyne — to walk me back to my chamber. the hour was late, however, and… i, ever a gracious host, bid him to stay, so that we may finish our conversation, and so that he would not have to walk back alone. he left the following morning.
did you hear or witness anything suspicious regarding the princess regent or the royal family ?
his lips twitch, fighting off a giggle. still, the amusement, however indelicate it appears in that moment, shines through in his eyes, the tone of his voice, the smile that seeps into his words. just who did they think he was? oh, come now, my lord. that isn't the type of gossip i've any interest in. it's unseemly, not to mention... ill-advised. he wrinkles his nose and cants his head, emphasizing his disapproval. i've seen captains cut out a man's tongue for far less, and here you are asking your guests and your subjects to disparage the king's line right to his face. is there anyone, of any station or motivation, who would answer such a question as truthfully as i have? if they had been privy to such a thing, i'm sure their fear of being penalized for not coming forward sooner would stay their tongue. what incentive is there then for any such persons to speak truly, even if bound by duty? what purpose does such a question serve, but to... catching himself much too late, harlon sighs out of his nose and shakes his head, eyes slipping shut as he nips his tirade in the bud. he thinks it's a waste of time, all of it, and it is. it so very is. when he looks up again, he looks directly at the king this time, solemn and sure. i am sorry, your grace. truly. but i am of no help to you. i had no involvement, intentional or otherwise, and nor did the company i kept.
