He came back from his thoughts and noticed that the air had changed, something about her was different, although he couldn't put his finger on what it was. He filed the thought away and focused on the more important matters, primarily the fact that the woman seemed in no way fearful of him, such a thing was more curious than her violet eyes. His eyes drifted to hers, and he noticed for the first time the depth they had to them, though they did nothing to betray her thoughts or emotions, aside from an obvious curiosity. His eyes drifted down, absorbing and filing all the information he could take in, and he soon noticed the change in posture and the sudden disappearance of the book. Had he been absorbed in thought long enough for her to store it? If he had been, where did she put it? He could see no place to stash a book where it would be hidden completely aside from under her skirt, the thought of which was ridiculous enough to bring him nearer to laughter than he had been in many years. He suddenly realized her hair had changed too, had she taken it down as well? No, he thought to himself, there couldn't have been enough time for both. A sudden curiosity took hold of him.

Her smile caught him off guard just as her gaze had earlier. A warmth spread through his skin, from his stomach outward it spread through every inch of him. A feeling he had felt many times before, the thought of it sickened him. His instinct begged him to kill her and leave, but he found himself incapable of movement for reasons he couldn't quite pinpoint. He attempted to return the gesture, his lips curling awkwardly, and found himself expected her to leave. For many years he has avoided just this situation; ever since he left his family behind he has not laughed, nor smiled, nor spoken to anyone but clients. He hardly noticed her voice over his thoughts, the words slipping through him heard but unheard. The warmth turned to fire, hatred boiling now. He closed the distance in moments, leaving no time for a reaction, stopping mere feet from her with one hand drawn and the other gripping his still sheathed dagger beneath his cloak. He reigned in his emotions and fixed his demeanor, taking on a more subtle, noble stance; but his left hand remained on his dagger, caution with strangers is necessary.

"I know many places, m'lady." He responded, hiding any hint of emotion that may wish to manifest itself. "And many places know me. But I will never fit." His mind wandered again, to the long list of homes he had, and the feelings each one brought. He pushed the thoughts away and focused on the woman. "But I'm more interested in you, m'lady. Tell me, what brings you to an inn with the Bloody Unicorn's..." He searched for the right words for a moment. "Unusual charm." A poor choice of words, he thought, but it would elicit a more interesting response. A reflection from her hair caught his eye, the pain forcing him to look away, and he found himself lost in thought once again.