"I suppose so."

So he nods to the soldier, who salutes and leaves to find the Commander.

"Ah, we should probably leave the closet, with the skin dealt with," he says. "Have you eaten? ...Do you need to eat often, and what do you eat, are important questions in this case I suppose." 

"I have eaten today, and usually eat three or two times a day. Meals composed of plant or animal products, which I don't know if they match the foodstuff in your world. Where would we be heading then?"

"The mess hall," he says, "If you wished to examine our food to see if it looks edible. Otherwise... Perhaps I should find Ilek. Who knows what trouble he's gotten into." He looks a cross between tired and amused at the idea. 

Shrug. "Lets search for your charge, there is always the odd chance that I will spontaneously grow a self-nourishing power."

He nods, amused, and then leads him out of the open closet and further out of the command center. 

The training fields are towards the back of the walled space, behind the infirmary and between the two back barracks. Ilek is there, as Jaim expected. Not getting into a fight, for a wonder. 

No one in the field wants to get in a scrap with the Prince of Cialin - a lot of them are like that when he first visits a place. It takes a bit, and someone to break that barrier, before anyone will fight him. Usually he has Jaim's elites to do that, but right now they're all busy eating or healing. Or dead. 

He ran through a few forms earlier, but that got old quickly, so he went back to his rooms to grab his harp and now he's playing it softly off to the side, trying to take his mind off the battle earlier that day.

When footsteps approach him he looks up, taking in Jaim, and then Zephyrinus - or, presumably Zephyrinus.

"You look different," he comments, his hands pausing on the harpstrings. Also shirtless.

Zephyrinus asks for a translation, and assuming he gets one he says. "Yes, I changed shapes."

He gets one, and Jaim also translates back. Ilek blinks at this information. 

"Huh. Alright. Shapeshifting." He looks back down at his harp, picking out a little tune absently. 

"Have you eaten?" Jaim asks. He knows they both ate breakfast before the ill fated patrol, but it's dinner time now. 

"...No." He's been busy. With music. And not thinking. 

He sighs.

"Come on, little brother," he says, pulling him up from the ground. "You're not doing anyone any good by not eating."

"Yes, mother," he grumbles. But he goes along easily, relaxing a bit under Jaim's arm. 

"He hasn't eaten," Jaim tells Zephyrinus, "So I guess it's to the mess hall anyway, if that's alright." 

"Sure thing. Is he your literal brother?"

He winces at the slip, but, well, no one who cares is around to listen, so. 

"He is. Was. I - did something the parent we shared did not approve of." 

Ilek scowls harder at this topic of conversation. 

"Is the thing relevant to current conversation or a subject that you do not wish to discuss?"

He huffs a strained laugh. 

"It's possible you should understand the sort of person who rules this country," he says, "It may in fact be relevant to our discussion." 

He sends Ilek onwards to get some food. The teen goes, if reluctantly. Once he's out of earshot Jaim begins speaking. 

"King Rael is... a good warrior," it's really one of the best things he can say about him. "And not easily influenced by the power-chasers at court. He's a powerful mage and a true force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. But. He is not a good king. Or a good father.

"He loves his power, and he loves his armies, but he cares little for the people. He leaves that to one of his ministers - to the father lf my brothers' mother, specifically. The man's opinions of commoners are even worse than the King's, and his only desire is to gather more power for himself. Gael, the eldest of my younger brothers, does the best he can to mitigate his influence, but Lord Tain has allies in many places. 

"Worse, while Emperor Reginald may not have started as a conqueror... Rael did. If this war should turn in our favour the King would love nothing better than to have Cialin replace the Empire." 

"As for my specific story... When I was young I went to Sanctuary, to attend their academy. Sanctuary is the most advanced city in the world, in magic, in technology, in learning. They are also what many Cialin call a 'horrifying den of sickness and evil'. Some of the people I associated with in Sanctuary were among that sort, in the opinions of the nobility here. I was on thin ice when I returned for this reason. But the King cares not for that sort of thing, and would not let it see me passed over - I remind him of my mother, you see, whose memory he has always claimed to cherish.

"In the last year of my part-time residence there, the Bow of the Nomad was found and brought to Sanctuary. No one could bond with it. I was foolish, and took a foolish challenge, to touch the Bow and offer to bond it. The Nomad decided they liked me, and mostly without intending to be so, I was bound. 

"Artefact users cannot be King. It is a law from the second king of Cialin after magic resurfaced, after he wrested the country from the hands of a tyrannical wielder. I was fine with this - I have no desire to be king. I would go mad within a decade. Gael will be far better than I could ever be. I would have removed myself from succession without fuss.

"Lord Tain, however, took it as the perfect opportunity to have me disowned, ensuring I could never challenge his grandsons. He made sure to inform the king in the perfect way to enrage him as much as possible. 

"He stripped me of my rank, my family name, and my personal name as well - as only royalty may bear the -el. And he banished me from the capital, sent me to take the furthest command. Were it not for my skill at warfare he would have exiled me from Cialin in totality. For disobeying him, for this was how Tain convinced him to see it.

"He does not allow his authority to be challenged." 

Well, at least Zephyrinus is not worried that Jaim would try to make a case for him to join the fight on their side. Also, this sounds like a textbook case of monarchies not working.

"I see. ...How to best avoid making him feel challenged?"

He snorts, "Avoid him," he says. He shakes his head, "He's not an idiot, but he is manipulatable in some ways. If you have to deal with him, you don't want him to know the full extent of your abilities. He'll know you can change shapes and may control ice - and possibly that you can gain swift understanding in laguages, if that happens. I don't have enough control over the border forces to stop that from getting back to him, but he won't know anything you don't reveal to the military at large. He will attempt to demand you fight for him, or teach his soldiers, or simply teach him. Gael can sometimes persuade him down. If he does and you are willing to agree to whatever more reasonble thing he settles on, he will leave you be. If you are not willing, or Gael fails to argue him down enough, and you refuse, he may demand you leave Cialin. He would not escalate to violence, I don't think. He would not care so much about defiance from an outsider not meant to be under his command, as he did about his own son disobeying him, so long as you offer no blatant disrespect.

"My brothers will ignore any of his unhelpful orders as much as they safely can, given my recommendations, but cannot disobey him too openly."

Nod. Pause. "Thank you for all this information."

He nods, shrugs, "You should know what you've walked into," he says. 

He continues on towards the mess hall. 

The food currently set out is rice, carrots, cabbage, and fish from the nearby river. Jaim takes some of each before turning to Zephyrinus.

"Anything look familiar? Or at least edible?"