"I'm sorry to hear that," he replied, solemn silence descending on them with those heavy words of hers. How had she died?, he wanted to ask, but muteness took a hold of him. The songstress who was not a songstress had obviously had strong ties with the princess, that much he knew from the breaking of her voice. More than that, he did not wish to reveal his…condition to anyone as long as he had the choice. He had been foolish enough to tell the Kingsguard and what had come of it? It was a vulnerability, and vulnerable was the one thing he could not afford to be. Such news of blood and pain would surely have spread across the land as wildfire, and it would seem strange if he confessed to his ignorance of the affair.
How much, then, to tell her? How far to trust her? They had given him a name, yet was it his truly? Monterys. To this day, it felt foreign to his ears, and even more so on his tongue. Still, a name was a name, and the only one that he had.
"They call me Monterys," he revealed, almost out of the blues. She had, after all, given him hers. A favour had to be repaid.