Village. Right. Village. Imhar's smile didn't falter as he let the blonde prattle on. He reminded him a bit of Alistair, but this was definitely not Denerim and the young man in front of him was absolutely no king no matter what kind of implication having a guard gave off.
"Imhar," he said, still working on being as charming as ever, "Delighted." He let out a gentle little laugh and adjusted the bag on his shoulder. It held far more than it seemed, but Arthur didn't need to know that. "I'm afraid I am my things. Nothing much to worry about delivering."
A house. Gods, that sounded terrible. It chafed at him and he had yet to even see the place. Still, it'd be rude to refuse the gift of a place to sleep, wouldn't it? He was real tempted to, though. Friendly meant nosy. Nosy was not a good thing, not in the slightest.