While some of Skandra's remarks had been amusing on the surface, the threat was still there. Still there and still a bit alarming. She scowled behind the man's back when he commented that his sword was also thirsty but did not drink ale. He'd have a hard time harming here should she decide he was a real threat. He was not, at least, towards those she was suppose to protect above all else. She sat in the offered chair and offered a smile in return as she sat.
And then he began.
Vedette sighed gently as he spoke, looking at the bar top. Conspirators against the King. There were always some who did not find Lord Ithunvel's reign to be as good as it was. He gave so much to his people, and hardly any of them really thanked him for it. If it were not for Ithunvel much of this country would fall to complete disrepair, and be unprepared for invading forces. But they didn't know that, or they didn't care. But those slaves of the country, those marked.. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to live that, and maybe she was too fond of Ithunvel to question it.
But why kill the king instead of flee the country?
When their drinks came Vedette cupped her hands around her glass, having noticed it looked warmer than she liked. Slowly its sides frosted, and the drink cooled considerably. Instead of taking a drink she switched her glass with Skandra' before doing the same with the new glass of ale. Ithacles shouldn't have brought them to a bar of all places. Walls had ears, even if they were soldiers, what if some of them were reporting back to Lethe, whom she didn't quite like completely.