The man sighed and tilt his head like a curious pet that had just been asked if they wanted a treat. "You are not from now...but from in five hundred years...? That is not making much sense," Cristiano said with a small smirk and a look around the area.
"I do not know," he confessed. "There was rumor in my camp that the principessa is alive, that she will take back Miromara--the kingdom I am from--but I do not know the means for war. The attack came as a surprise during a ceremony." His hand ruffled through his hair. "Most of my people are dead, or captured, or are traitors."