@hammerthe: ❝ facts interest me. not fairytales. ❞
royalty is so often the same—quick to offer their judgement and dispense their thoughts with little consideration that what they say may not be how it is. lazare is unsure if such a constant trait applies to baelor, different though he seems. he has been called before more than his fair share of princes and princesses, kings and queens, lords and ladies and all in between. few have surprised him.
this one may yet.
"it is not fairy tales, your grace," the witcher begins, his face as blank and cool as stone, as he casts his gaze in assessment over baelor once more. what is he to make of him? how frank may he be? it is different for every noble, and while he is not one to fall over himself to please anyone, kaer seren taught him courtly manners and knightly bearing. he deploys those teachings judiciously. he errs for deadpan honesty, as he does in so many things. "though they can often be one in the same. a monster prowls your grounds. are the bodies that lay in your cellars and the viscera left behind fairy tales?"