Interesting. What happens if she builds him up?

"School wasn't the right place for me to learn. Seems you've got a spot here where you make a difference. People you care about, a place you know - especially when they need you to shield them."

"I have a duty, and I don't resent that. But it would be better if I were more capable." 

He doesn't resume his stylised posing, though, and neither does the story return to him. 

She nods.

"There's never been a time I've wanted less power."

"Well, I might be able to help. What do you call your people, the ones that fight against Escalamita? Is there a capitol or school or grand leader I should visit next on my journey?"

"The king will be on campaign with his armies no doubt, but the capital is also the site of one of our three great schools. So I'd recommend going there, if you wish to get involved. The greatest of the three makes itself quite inaccessible." 

She'll ask for directions and distance to the capital then. If it's too late to arrive there tonight (which seems probable given her impression of this village), she would very much appreciate someplace sheltered to rest. And if he agrees she's hopefully going to enjoy some melon cordial, pump this conversation for any useful tidbits about the king/capital/war, and find out if he or the village has any significant non-war problems she might be able solve.

Yeah, the capital is down so-and-so road but it's four day's walk. The squire is happy to put her up in the guestroom of his manor for a night, and provide her with suitable food for an honoured (and scary) guest. 

It seems to king is known as the King of Stones, and he's considered a master of the eight noble arts taught by the Diemothian School in the capital; this man's teacher was also a student of this school, for all that he's barely acceptable at two. 

Apart from the war, the village's troubles seem limited to teenage interpersonal drama which he doesn't have a good handle on, and old-person interpersonal drama which he has actually zero handle on. 

Well she's not sticking her head into either of those with even less of a handle than him. Does he happen to mention which two noble arts his teacher mastered? Either way, she'll enjoy the food (not as good as at Cardinal but she's been spoiled lately) and then head off to bed. 

How's her soul doing? She'd like to poke at whatever happened earlier a bit more but if it still seems strained she'll actually just go to sleep.

He's practiced in an art of costuming and personal presentation suitable for heirs, squires, and patriotic petty gentlemen of the local culture, and in a warsong tradditional to the area, designed for massed cavalry charges primarily but suitable also for elite heavy infantry. 

Her soul is doing okay? It still hurts quite a bit (less, though) but something sort of weird is happening. Some kind of energy flow deep within seems to have been wrenched loose and the energies are pooling on the metaphorical "surface", where it's accessible to her intention and volition.