"Are you sure this is wise, my Lord?"
"- hm?" Aymeric blinks, and though his eyes had not been shut, they might as well have, so deeply lost in thought was he, watching the scenery pass by outside his carriage.
"This banquet," clarifies Lucia, his right-hand woman. "Are you sure it is wise to go? The Dravanian Horde may be planning a revenge strike any time now, and..." She looks uncertain about how to phrase whatever her other misgivings are.
"You don't trust the Alliance," he guesses.
"I... don't," she admits, a small relieved smile playing at her lips. At least she didn't have to say it.
"Why not?" he asks, leaning forward on his seat.