Solas tensed. A noble...? If Caspian knew of the country of Rol Rhosa, he'd know about Solas's heritage. They could've brushed elbows at a gala, or sat across each other at a feast...

He didn't recognize the man, but that didn't mean it wasn't possible they'd met before. He'd come across plenty --

Solas turned and crossed a leg over his knee, folding the sketchbook over his thumb.

"Oh, well, it's nice to meet you. Have you moved here, or are you a traveler?"

Solas looked up from his notebook. He was sketching a terribly crude rendition of a flower in front of him.

"Oh, hello. I haven't seen you around."

ㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ•° she shook her head, a slight look of sadness appearing on her face.

ㅤㅤ“Incurable, my liege.”

ㅤㅤ•° she shook her head once again, and the sadness dissipated.

ㅤㅤ“I am Shiyou of the Cleanrot Knights. A pleasure to meet you, my liege.”
ㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ“I advise you to not touch me.”

ㅤㅤ•° the warning was spoken with a soft voice, not meant to intimidate but only to alert.

ㅤㅤ“For I am cursed with a deadly affliction.”
ㅤㅤ