Second Meetings || Rodrick & Cecilae
Rodrick had found himself encumbered with a group of overly talkative northern lords, each one subtly (or so they thought) broaching the subject of Queensgarden's loyalties every now and again. He kept his commentary to a minimum, nodding along and humming in affirmation when the situation warranted it. The only time he ever really spoke was to deflect the conversation away from matters of politics, pretending to misunderstand the question and extolling the virtues of Queensgarden's vineyards instead. His jaw clenched as they sniggered beneath their breaths, sharing a look between them, but he dismissed the expression as quickly as he was able.
A flash of golden hair he'd spied out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Some of the Haelstarv women had blonde hair, he knew, but the shade was lighter, more vibrant. Rodrick angled his head, so he could more easily discern who the person might be, trying to avoid giving away where his concentration had shifted. It couldn't be... could it?
Furrowing his brow, Rodrick excused himself from the conversation. He weaved through the crowd a little, not wanting to draw the ire of his former company should the blonde woman actually turn out to be one of the Igniscors as he suspected. The Southern rebels being discovered in Winterhaven definitely wouldn't go down well.
By the time he closed the distance between them, he was all but certain. "Lady Cecilae?" He kept his voice as soft as he could. "What are you doing here?"