For a moment, there was no visible reaction from the knight. Blue-gray eyes stared back at Constans, as lifeless as any tranquil's gaze. Only the cheerful sounds of an early spring morning broke the silence: the rustle of branches overhead, a songbird chirping in the eaves. Then Ordhan nodded, the only sign of unease a slight stiffness of the movement.
So that was it. A search he had led for nearly his entire adult life was grinding to a painful halt. While his voice was even as he thanked Constans and his lips smiled in an expression of gratitude, it seemed the actions of another.
Was that it, then? Had he failed? Part of him refused to accept it; even as he reeled inwardly, a dozen excuses sprang to mind. Certainly Constans could not know every mage in the tower. Perhaps, somehow, she was one of those he had mentioned. Given how she had left home, brown hair and brown eyes were more of a certainty than her own name. But even if she had been forced to go by another name, what comfort was that? Three mages and one tranquil. A one in four chance of-- No, he couldn't bear to think of it. Also, if she went by another name, his search would be impossible. Her name is all he had left of her.
A hint of distress crossed his features, so slight even one skilled in reading the faces of others might have missed it, before he straightened. The letter was still in his hand; he folded it again before putting it in his pocket. "I will make sure your letter is delivered. I am rested enough, now. Should we continue?"