"Mine's a pretty good egg," Torben answered, "but I know yours is too. Trouble in fairyland?" Elf home, fairyland, sprite hollow - potato/potahto. The heir to the throne looked Fjolnir and tried to get a better read. The issues (what little he knew of them) in the Njordson household seemed so far away to Torben now. It was as if they'd been decades ago but he felt the urgency and frustration in the other prince's body language. "The Odinsons have a strict 'talk it out' policy." He almost rolled his eyes but didn't. Mother was near... "The Silverclouds never miss a chance to lock horns and my father's family let things fester under grandfather's reign, so he likes to keep things open. Aired out. Like dirty laundry." Like the current situation.