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Estinien has certainly missed serving in the same unit as Aymeric - the one downside to his progress towards the Knights Dragoon. He may be assigned to the same battle these days, but it's more an act of chance than any certainty. Dragoons don't generally get assigned to just any mission - only those with high likelihoods of dire conflict with the horde.

It was an inevitability, but it may be nice to mix up his training with those not of the Order. Surely, experimenting with alternate styles could only benefit his skills in the long run. If he were to be honest, though, he doesn't need a practical excuse.

"Aye," he agrees. "And it has been too long since I was able to keep an eye on you." He's been unaware of what goes on in most of Aymeric's daily work, something that he is realizing now. He usually has little attention to spare outside of his own training.

"...It does not burden me to speak of your difficulties, Aymeric," he adds after a few moments. He's gathered that he seems reluctant to speak of these things right now, but he isn't totally sure of the source.

Their splintering paths would lead to their professional split at some point, this Aymeric knew, but it was not until Estinien really left that Aymeric understood how often he would seek the other man out through their growing friendship. Even if it had been just for a small casual conversation, an invitation to share their designated lunch times together, or quips during training--they had given him a little extra light in his day. Not that all the members of the Temple Knights were unkind--far from it. Aymeric has found that most are men and women who have aspirations of their own or simply want for a better life. But Estinien is different and Aymeric is always in want of his company.

To that, Aymeric laughs, his smile brightening a few degrees. "Am I in need of supervision?"

He understands that is not a reflection of his skill, but the ways that Estinien shows he cares that spur such jests. It harkens back to that night out in the Highlands the winter before when Aymeric had been nearly taken out by one of the horde. Yet less than Estinien sparing him that fate, it was the other man's admission that he had been tracking his movements for fear of his safety that Aymeric decided to make an even stronger push for companionship. It has certainly paid off and the remaining scars he carries are well-worth the cost.

Though this admission is one that causes Aymeric's smile to dim. He allows his gaze to fall to his knees for a moment, slowly letting that process. He would like to immediately refute the statement, but Estinien is not entirely wrong that Aymeric has been actively choosing to keep some things to himself. It may seem less so to Estinien with whom Aymeric is decidedly more open, but Aymeric himself is generally a private man in his personal affairs, both out of nature and necessity.

"'Twas not mine intent to shut you out, my friend," he finally says as he lifts his eyes back up to the vista before them. "A part of me did not want to add to your troubles of late with your Dragoon trials having been so close at hand, but in truth I have been selfish."

He exhales in a huff through his nose. Honesty is the best policy, here.

"Mayhaps I did not want to appear petty to someone whose opinion I hold in high regard. With an endless war at hand, there seems little place to rightfully complain about trivial tasks that I have been assigned, as well as I know their true purpose."

Estinien understands that he's a difficult person.

The social aura he gives off is not one bourne of ignorance, but instead, of lack of caring. For the longest time, he would refuse to let anyone impact his path, with rare exceptions made for the man that raised him through his teens. Any weight of social expectation was not something he needed and a waste of his energy, and so he was quick to let his peers know that their solicitations were not necessary or appreciated.

Yet, that changed somehow, in this one instance. Through sheer persistence on Aymeric's part, generally speaking - which means that everything has been just a bit slanted from day one. Aymeric had been the one reaching out, the one making accommodations, the one careful to appeal to Estinien's sensibilities. Estinien is not a particularly observant person when it comes to social cues, but even he could notice. As much as he could believe that Aymeric did desire their friendship, he was so often the one putting the effort in. All Estinien had to do was show up and absorb what the other put forth, and he can't help but feel that it's wrong.

If Estinien ever intuitively knew how to be a supportive friend, he's long since lost the knowledge. Every little step with Aymeric feels like a new lesson and one that he is unlikely to repeat with others. If it doesn't come naturally to him, he reasons, he has to think - he has to push beyond what feels easiest every so often, or what use is he?

So as much that he worries that he's missing something that's right in front of him, deep down, Estinien doesn't want to be the one just effortlessly lapping up the emotional labour of his friend. He wants to do something right for him, even if he isn't sure what that is. He lifts his hand like he's thinking about doing something with it, and then sets it down on the stone again.

"...Then you can allow me to complain on your behalf," he says. "I have no shortage of complaints, and for pettier things than you could muster." That part is at least a little bit wry, but then his expression falls to something more serious and reflective. "I can see that you do considerable work to set me at ease, my friend." His voice is soft. "I do not desire to only passively accept your efforts, pulled along as a gormless passenger."

A silence falls between them and Aymeric too is left with his thoughts. It is a shameful admission, though one he makes because Estinien can at least be afforded the honesty, had his actions caused a slight. Even so, he does not believe the other man will judge him unjustly, ever firm and unbiased in his ascertains. (Most, at least.) Aymeric knows that is his own desire to save face that pushes those feelings, not Estinien.

The movement catches his eye and Aymeric does turn to look at his friend then, only to find that same hand fall and an extended quiet. He is about to apologize when Estinien speaks and Aymeric is glad that he stalled, if only for a second. The response is just so Estinien it is enough to twitch his lips upwards in semblance of a smile just for a moment. Yet it is what Estinien finishes with that causes Aymeric to raise his brows, mouth hanging ajar for another few beats.

It seems he has been blessed with a few instances of his friend laying bare intentions and small insecurities he usually does not. Despite the nature of their conversation, Aymeric feels his chest warm again. It's another reassurance that he does not necessarily need, but so appreciates--

Estinien wants to be his friend. And a good one at that.

So Aymeric shakes his head, good nature returning as does his smile. "As I have said once before...you do not fully appreciate the pleasure that is your company." Harkening once again back to that night out in the Highlands.

"I do realize that I tend to dictate the conversation at times..." He feels inclined to once again reassure Estinien that it is fine--but that is just proving the point, is it not? Aymeric stops himself mid-thought and has to let out a breathy laugh.

"...Very well. Then in your presence I shall allow myself to be as petty and irascible I may feel. I believe this may be invoking the 'no judgments' clause of our friendship."

Estinien also finds himself waiting to see the results of his words, and is relieved when Aymeric reacts positively. His own smile comes to his lips, subtle but very much present. He's not the sort to often speak of the mechanics of a relationship, so he's glad to have at least voiced his thoughts sensibly.

Aymeric guiding the conversation isn't necessarily a bad thing, given that Estinien himself is not particularly skilled at doing it himself, he would just rather he not guide it away from what troubles him. Estinien considers himself to be the one with the dark disposition - Aymeric has little to fear.

He relaxes for a moment, but then he remembers something he had been wanting to ask about before, only to be distracted by their conversations in the armory. His brow furrows as he considers it again.

"Then... knowing that you needn't censor yourself on my account..." he begins tentatively. "I had been meaning to ask..." He finally looks back towards Aymeric at this point. "Have you been bothered by the noble women's... 'attentions', as you put it? I had not heard of this Lady before tonight..."

In all honesty, he's already forgotten her name.

He is glad to have an understanding between them. Having Estinien's companionship and confidence is very important to him, after all, and he is always pleased to be receiving any amicable gestures, physically or verbally. And he is anticipating that if Estinien does wish to know more details about his current lot in the Knights, he will.

He does not expect for the subject to circle back to their initial meeting with Haurchefant. Aymeric blinks, visibly a little surprised, yet he did just agree to be more candid, did he not? Courtship gossip just seems far from the other man's area of interest.

"Where to begin..." Aymeric takes a moment to collect his thoughts. Though this is just between them, he still canning find it in himself to paint a poor picture of a woman whose intentions are likely as innocent as they can be. Aymeric just refuses to risk it.

"I had not thought such matters would be of interest to you, to be honest, yet Haurchefant was not incorrect in all of his embellished recounts. Lady Elsinne has been very persistent in seeking out my companionship since the first night we danced together, though I am truthfully boggled as to what I had done to garner that interest. She has been naught but proper in the way one may expect of a woman of her standing, insistent though she may be."

He pauses again, eyes falling to a spire somewhere in the distance.

"In some ways I am flattered. When I have been approached in the past, it has always been more in...private. Secrecy, mayhaps? Though that makes it sound much more nefarious. Yet she seems fit to pursue me in sight of others, seemingly with no regard to what they may think, of which I am unaccustomed. This should speak true to the sincerity to her intentions, and yet...I still find myself questioning them."

He shakes his head, finishing to turn a little more to face Estinien properly.

"It may be a problem of mine own making. She is a lovely woman..."

There are plenty of circumstances in which Estinien would find this sort of business completely unengaging, but for some reason, it has stuck in his head. First, when he thought it might be mutual, something had turned in his gut - and now that it seems like a source of stress, he's engaged in a different way.

Part of him is relieved that Aymeric doesn't seem interested, while at the same time he wonders if the 'right' thing to do would be to encourage him forward, though maybe less boisterously than Haurchefant had. If his concern is that her feelings must be ingenuine because of his status... would it not be kind to tell him to believe in his own charms, as Aymeric has so often reminded Estinien to do? To pursue the possibility of love?

He's not sure what to say. Aymeric could hardly be confused for anything other than handsome, a conclusion that Estinien can draw with only a small amount of embarrassment given how blindingly obvious it seems. He's charming, courteous, earnest, and hard-working... it had baffled Estinien before that even his blood status could be a barrier to this effect, and it still does now.

It's probably clear on Estinien's face that he's struggling a little, interacting with this sort of topic in a manner that is at all graceful. He only hopes that Aymeric will bear with him, rather than seeking the change the topic again, determining that it's beyond Estinien's means.

"Then your worry is that her feelings are ingenuine?" he asks. He recalls other things Aymeric has told him on similar subjects. "That she would have something to gain from her flirtations?"

He's only asking questions at this point because he wants to hear what Aymeric is thinking rather than filling in the blanks himself.

It is not something he speaks of freely or often, spending too much time inside his own mind grinding through the possibilities until he assuredly dissuades himself from anything. Haurchefant's involvement, while well-meaning, only goes so far as what he has himself witnessed rather than Aymeric coming to him in confidence. That Estinien want to hear Aymeric out despite this being far out of the realm of his own interest does make him glad.

He nods plainly. "You have the right of it. It may be a poor reflection of past experiences that I am casting on Lady Elsinne, and if that be the case she most certainly deserves for her attentions to be returned elsewhere."

Aymeric pauses, gaze dropping down an ilm or so, brows pushing together as he too is struggling with something. Though he is someone who believes honesty should come first, being honest with some of the subjects is a first for him. Matters that he keeps to himself, especially out of earshot of his parents. They had done him a kindness in taking him into their home, he ought not sully the family name in the process. No more than he all ready has.

"...Said experiences are few in number, I must admit. Yet I was not immune to the swell of urges that come with blossoming adulthood. Though the aristocracy likes to claim purity on such affairs, it is very common to explore such inclinations and act as if one had not until marriage."

He shakes his head, not so much in disapproval of such explorations, but in the hypocrisy that comes with it.

"Though events never did fully..." Aymeric struggles for a moment, feeling a little boyish all of a sudden to be so candid about his sex life. "...escalate to the expected conclusion..." Or the lack-thereof. "I became acutely aware that it was less than genuine interest for which my company was sought. After all, would it not be something of an amusing little secret than to have bed the Archbishop's bastard son?"

He forces his gaze back up to Estinien and shakes his head again.

"I may have been disingenuous when I originally stated that I was unfit for courtship. By all accounts I am to inherit the Borel estate and the title adjoined, which under most circumstances would play a fair part in my own eligibility for dating and marriage. To men our age this would be a standard affair, as the lower Houses are always doing their best to align themselves with those at the top. Nourorault, while not one of the High Houses, has close connections to one, and therefore would be a clear step up for House Borel. Yet I do not have the desire to move forward with even the potentiality of such an arrangement. Henceforth I have done my utmost to speak naught of it, lest my mother be given a false impression of my intentions."

Edited 2020-10-31 01:47 (UTC)

Estinien was also not immune to the urges associated with 'blossoming adulthood', though they manifested in a way that was equally if not more inelegant, in his opinion. Though, fortunately, it may have left less permanent scars, largely due to the fact that they had been without attachment by design. He can no longer remember much of the people that were involved, and all that's important to him is that the events have never been brought up to him again.

It seems all too clear that Aymeric's open heart is what makes something like this hurt so much, above and beyond general embarrassment. It causes aimless anger to twist in his gut, with no faces or names to place the blame on. It seems Lady Elsinne is not the root of the trouble after all.

He wishes there was something he could do or say that would make a difference, but he's not sure there is. So, instead, he endeavours to listen.

"You do not wish to marry?" he asks, unsure of whether Aymeric means in general, or just with Lady Elsinne, or only as a result of his fears.

That Estinien be present, that Aymeric lay bare his woes unabashed is more than he could ask for. Words he has not uttered aloud before, only allowing the thoughts and regret to boil in his mind and heart until they taught him even more the importance of caution. Yet Estinien is once again correct--he would be very much inclined to share his heart with someone, should it be welcome. He simply knows not if it can be possible at this juncture.

He allows another moment's pause, a silence if only to allow himself that brief reprieve. It is more than he ever thought he may share on the matter.

"I would not say that." He swallows. "Were my situation different, mayhaps I would be well with the notion that marriage at this station is oft a transaction more than a fulfillment of devotion, no matter how it is painted. The idea of marriage to someone whose heart I truly know...does have a great appeal."

Whose heart he truly knows.

Something about that sticks with Estinien, even beyond their current topic of conversation. Aymeric is the only person in the world that Estinien feels like he knows at all, and for a moment he's left wondering what that means. It's not as if he's sought others out, always trying to remain isolated, but now that this connection is here, stolen into his heart...

Aymeric's thoughts keep turning him back around towards contemplating his own emotions, and it doesn't sit well with him. This is meant to be Aymeric's plight, and nothing going on inside Estinien's head makes enough sense to him to speak of.

Except one thing.

"I know little of these matters. Yet, I think... if that is what you desire, you should be permitted to have it," he says. "And that you should feel no shame for searching for as much."

Estinien may know little, but what he says holds quite a weight. Despite the heaviness of his admissions, that simple and succinct statement is enough to pull Aymeric's lips into a smile. His friend does have a way of stating what he needs to hear plainly, a welcomed contrast to Aymeric's own inability to be brief.

"Thank you, Estinien. That means more to me to hear than I can properly convey."

Because, in his heart, Aymeric does desire romance. He has always been a little in love with the idea of love, even if he has not let said notions dictate his life's choices. Far from it--his own ambitions for himself and for Ishgard, while born out of a kind of love for the latter, were far from the same sort of goal. Yet there is a place in his year that still yearns for it against his better judgment and practicalities.

Someday, perhaps.

"...And thank you for lending an ear. In truth, this is the first I have spoken of these matters. Yet I am glad that it was with you."

Though still feeling twisted up inside in a way he can't fully address, Estinien nods his head, managing his own small smile in return. He's glad to be able to at least say something useful on the situation, even if he feels he is largely ignorant. When the rare need to be careful of his wording arrises, his tongue feels impossibly clumsy.

He keeps feeling the urge to touch Aymeric's shoulder, or his arm, or do anything of comfort - yet every time he contemplates it the motion dies before it reaches his hand. It's a bit easier to reciprocate when the offer is made to him, but every time he is about to instigate such a thing, the distance between them feels so vast.

"Then I am glad to have forced your hand," he says. That's not exactly what it is, but teasing him a little will take some of the pressure off. "You have more secrets about you than one might expect, at first glance. I am honoured to know them."

That earns a warm chuckle. "Had I become too predictable all ready, my friend?"

Yet he could not have predicted that this is where the night would lead--sitting yalms above city, perched on top of the Vault itself, chatting away under the stars with his closest friend. To say that it is better than entertaining the expected pleasantries at the gala would be an understatement. What he would do that more events turned this way...

Aymeric sighs. "As much as it pains me to say, I fear we may need to return to House Fortemps ere the night's end. We owe a show of gratitude to our host, at the very least. But I do hope that we can do this again."

Estinien certainly feels more like himself up here than down in the Fortemps manor. Away from the eyes and expectations of others, in an isolated place that only a small few could reach... it probably gives a more canny view into Estinien's lifestyle than most other things could. Some aspect of sharing that is comforting.

He's also been lurkingly aware of their need to return to the party, not wanting to be the cause of some manner of social disgrace for cutting out too soon. So when Aymeric brings it up, instead of grousing, he simply nods.

"Aye," he agrees with a reluctant sigh. "It would not do to waste the opportunity in its entirety. Not least because I was required to dress for the occasion." He offers a playful smirk. "Whenever the priests are not making use of this place, it is accessible to us. I would gladly bring you here again. Mayhap after one of those training sessions we agreed upon."

Estinien starts to get up and offers Aymeric his hand - both because he doesn't want to risk him falling, and also for less tangible reasons.

Edited 2020-11-01 05:19 (UTC)

Though he did not think that Estinien would turn down his suggestion, he is still glad to hear his agreement. Especially since Estinien will be doing the legwork on most of it...both literally and figuratively. Aymeric will have to find a way to do his part as well, he thinks. (Would making a lunch to bring be inappropriate?)

Aymeric does have to chuckle at the remark on his manner of dress. "We would be remiss to let these efforts go to waste. Surely I cannot be the only one to appreciate it."

He is a little proud of the outfit he put together for Estinien. It is dressed up enough to be acceptable and yet not so overbearing as to erase all of Estinien's sensibilities and, well, sense of style. At least he thinks he did a good job and Estinien does not seem to be too uncomfortable in it.

"I would like that," Aymeric says simply and smiles again as he takes Estinien's hand, standing very carefully at the very edge. He does use the nearby spire to steady himself a little before moving to take his position at Estinien's back. Mounting here, though...is definitely more perilous. Aymeric keeps his gaze on the spread of Estinie's shoulders and stares pointedly forward.

"I am a little curious as to how long we have been gone, though I doubt our absence was much noticed."

Except, maybe, by Haurchefant and Lady Elsinne, if she is at all present.

The true test of the outfit was already done by seeing if it would interfere with his ability to climb this building - in the end, it did not. So, with his movement unimpeded, and nothing offensive about the look of the thing, he's more or less satisfies. The braid in his hair is also sufficient. In some ways, it's even better than his usual ponytail at keeping his hair from his face, though just hard enough to apply that he probably wouldn't do it himself.

As for the way other people might react to it... well, they didn't really stay at the party long enough to tell. He has an aversion to gaining attention for his appearance, but by all likelihood, it's all too middle of the road to gain much anyway.

Also, he wasn't expecting for Aymeric to get ready to go right on the edge of the building, and a flutter of anxiety goes through his gut as the other man climbs onto his back. It only dissipates once Aymeric is safely in place, and is then replaced with a different yet still related feeling.

"The bells have gotten away from me, as well," Estinien agrees, bracing himself. "So you know, the trip downward may be more... alarming than the way up."

Estinien gives Aymeric a moment to prepare, eying the stops he's going to try to make on the way down. A few separate jumps may be less alarming than one big free fall.

Aymeric is not one to be impeded by momentary fears, mostly for his own safety, but Estinien can take it instead as a vote of confidence that he would not let Aymeric fall. A long drop indeed, but he would never have scaled the Vault without Estinien.

Well, probably not. Who else would bear him hither?

Wrapping his arms around Estinien's shoulders and securing his thighs at his hips once again, Aymeric nods.

"I will do my best to keep that first glass of wine to myself."

Estinien finds himself smiling faintly as he makes sure Aymeric is properly balanced on his back, before carefully moving to the edge. Below them, the streets of the city stretch, shockingly far away for anyone unaccustomed to being airborne. This time, instead of propelling himself upwards, Estinien almost seems to skip off into the air, allowing it to catch him as he and Aymeric drift into a strangely weightless fall.

The wind is the most cutting thing, nothing about Estinien's technique being able to save them from it. He's thankful for the braid at that point, glad that Aymeric won't be entirely smothered in his hair - a major benefit to his armor, he's found. It protects him from the elements, and also from his hair being too violently whipped by the wind.

They plunge towards a lower platform on the Vault, at which point Estinien dances off of it and towards the next tallest building. Just as it seems as they are about to make a harsh landing, it feels almost as if Estinien has some control over his trajectory - the blow comes soft, besides Aymeric's additional weight. Same as he can project himself upward, Estinien seems able to guide their path through the air, speeding or slowing as necessary.

He easily makes their way back to the Fortemps Manor, only slowing once they are back on its roof. He makes sure to keep hold of Aymeric as they arrive, not wanting him to pitch straight off the building if he finds himself ill. This means, that as Estinien guides him to dismount, he may have more than the usual amount of hands on Aymeric's body, keeping him steady in something that flirts dangerously with the concept of an embrace as they separate.

"How about that wine?" he prompts.

It is most certainly a different experience than the ascent. Aymeric thinks that he is prepared, but he is not--not for the way that his stomach seems to leap up until his ribcage, displacing his heart and lungs as they fight to move to his head. He gives an undignified, but muffled yelp at the sensation, and yet...

...and yet by the end of it he is laughing. He is breathless. His heart is racing (having found it's rightful place in his chest) and Aymeric feels lightheaded and strangely tired despite the fact that it was most definitely Estinien doing all the hard work here. Estinien who, by the blessing of the Fury, remains untarnished by any inability Aymeric might have had to keep hold on that aforementioned stomach.

"Where...where it should be," he says, trying to catch his breath. "Estinien...that was exhilarating! Even more than when we made our way to the Vault itself. I never thought that falling could be so wonderful."

He sounds ready to wax poetic about the whole experience, finding that his legs are a little less steady than he expects them to be, holding onto Estinien all to ready as he tries to stabilize himself. Yet he is all smiles throughout, cheeks and the tips of his ears pink like he had spent just a little too long in the early frost of winter.

"...I must sound mad to someone who experiences this day to day, mustn't I?"

Estinien had imagined that Aymeric would have a strong reaction, but he hadn't been sure it would end up being such pure bliss. It stirs feelings within him as well, memories of the first time he committed to a true freefall during his training. It was an experience that had awakened something in him, but that he'd never seen fit to share. It seemed foolish, somehow, to rejoice in the thrill of a technique intended for war.

Yet, seeing Aymeric's reaction, his own emotions feel somehow more real. He can relate to what Aymeric is saying, at least, even if it has become more mundane by his daily standards. He keeps hold of his friend while he balances himself, one hand around his waist and the other gripping his shoulder.

"Nay," he says, with a soft smile. "The first time I allowed myself to fully commit to a dive, I recall it being similarly livening." Not least because a fledgling dragoon could easily kill themselves doing it incorrectly. "And then again, the first time my descent began off a wyrm's back."

He can't help but notice the pinkness of Aymeric's cheeks and ears with a particular fondness. Again, he feels the phantom desire to touch that soft skin, but holds back, realizing the sheer audacity of the thought.

He also notices, then, that he is holding Aymeric more closely in his arms than he has before.

The validation is not what he seeks, but it is appreciated nonetheless. More so than that he seems to brighten only further when Estinien seems to have shared the sentiment once upon at time. Yet before Aymeric can wistfully imagine what it must have been like for Estinien to take his first practiced dive in safer conditions, he's given the details that he should have expected.

"By the Fury!" He gives a surprised airy laugh at that. "Of course it was...never let it be said that you do not excel under the most dire circumstances, my friend. I will look back fondly on this night when the future Azure Dragoon deigned me worthy to bare witness to his skills."

Aymeric, however, does not notice the proximity. Not right away, at least, finding it increasingly comfortable in the same way closeness with Estinien had come so easily when they were dancing earlier in the evening. His hands stay at Estinien's shoulder and bicep as he watches his friend with what can only be described as unabashed affection.

Yet register it does, even a moment too late to pretend that he had just been trying to steady himself. Aymeric's ears deepen and he immediately looks away, pulling back at the same time.

"...Further exploration for another time, of course."

Estinien is never sure how to feel when Aymeric comments about his future as the Azure Dragoon - it's born of genuine belief, he's sure, but he can't help but feel like it's giving him credit he's not yet due. Aymeric is kind to him, overly so, and his estimations often ignore just how little Estinien has accomplished in the face of how much there is still left to do.

From Estiniens perspective, at least. Then again, he refuses to accept much comfort or credit for anything he does at all. Nothing will truly matter until the deed is done.

He won't outright refute it, though, because he has other concerns. Mostly that he's noticed how close he and Aymeric are - and then that Aymeric also seems to notice, a moment too late. Estinien's arms retain the position they held around Aymeric's body for a few moments even after the other has pulled away, before awkwardly falling back to his sides.

Another person might cover this with an awkward laugh, but this is Estinien, so instead, he just stares at his friend in an unconcealed way that is born of pure confusion. It takes him a while to figure out how to course correct.

The hand that still lingers on Aymeric's arm will pull him towards the gazebo window. A practical concern.

"...We should get you off these tiles," he says. "You cannot be certain they won't be slick with frost."

Edited 2020-11-03 07:19 (UTC)

Aymeric gladly takes the assistance back in through the window, mayhaps too gladly. He has always appreciated and enjoyed Estinien's company, yet for a moment there he almost felt as if he were reveling in it. The adrenaline must be to blame, coming off that high from the jumps and the drops that Estinien so graciously provided.

"Thank you," he manages with a level voice, letting his gaze stray towards the entrance to the gazebo. Light from the stairway trickles through and Aymeric realizes they had (shamefully) left the door, open. It does not seem like anything came of it, at least.

"Well, then. Shall we? We owe Count Edmont an audience, of which I admit I have been looking forward to. Then I have mind to find something to eat."

Estinien muses that either their absence has gone unnoticed, or it would appear that they spent an oddly long time in the gazebo. No other way to find out but to return, he supposes. Yet, his eyes linger on Aymeric when he isn't looking, only to flicker away when he is.

It would be a mistake to allow Aymeric to completely distract himself from this opportunity - no matter how much Estinien has found himself preferring their solitude.

"That much I would enjoy," Estinien says, finally breaking away enough to head for the door. He peers into the manor, wondering if they will be seen reentering. "I imagine the tour group has returned before us..."

Slipping inside, he'll pause to hold the door for Aymeric before carrying on.

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