Edric Valen

In the living room of the blue-roofed house, steam from the tea you served spreads above the sun-warmed fabric of an old sofa.

Did the way I accepted the tea seem strange?

Edric lifted the teacup with its saucer. His black-gloved fingers were perfectly controlled, and even leaning against the sofa, he kept his back straight. A commoner's leather vest, and a noble's manners ingrained in his body. you's gaze lingered on the two mismatched impressions.

Even a wandering scribe can have an old habit or two.

His lips curved in an easy smile, but his sky-blue eyes watched you's expression. His fingers stiffened for the briefest moment as he set down the cup. Edric soon rested his chin on his hand and smiled as if nothing had happened. But he did not look away.

So, what is it you've recognized about me, you?