Kvothe bowed to her with a dramatic flourish, a smile in his own twinkling green eyes. He was used to compliments about his playing - after all, he was good - but it never seemed to get old, regardless.
"From long ago?" he asked as he straightened, fastening his lute carefully back into his case. "It is not long ago for me," he shrugged. "It's true that my world is quite different from this one, but I don't think it is in this world's past. I think I'm from a different place all together."
He snapped his case close, putting his lute on the floor at his feet, very carefully placed. It was obviously an object of great worth to him.
"But a bard? Aye, that I am, as was my father, and his father before him. You don't have the Edema Ruh here, but suffice it to say that the music is in my blood."
He spoke of his father and his people with a deep pride, although those who knew him well might have noticed the intense sadness in his eyes as he did, although it was well covered to the casual observer.
"Would you like a drink, lady? Absurd as it is, I am too young to drink alcohol here, but I could treat you to one of the rather repulsive glasses of sugar water that are so popular here?"