Cas picked up the nearby knife, pulling the vegetables close to starting chopping them into small bite-sized pieces, "Just as I thought." He hummed, matching Hylas' smile with one of his own as he got to work, "What would you ever do without me?" As they worked in comfortable silence, Cas' mind wandered back to Hylas comment about riddles. Did he know none at all? Strange. The prince had presumed that on his journies to far off kingdoms and continents surely he'd know of at least one, right? But Cas was quietly reminded why Hylas went on those trips, his goal for being there. No time to enjoy the atmosphere of a bustling new city or learn of its culture and jokes. He couldn't help but feel sad for him, though pushed the feeling away, not wanting to bring down the mood of their fine afternoon, "You know, I wouldn't worry about riddles anyway," Cas said eventually, "They're a waste of time. Once, when I was younger, Aeron made up some random 'riddle' to annoy me. Turns out it wasn't true, but I spent weeks trying to figure it out all for it to be a lie the prick." He chuckled at the memory. Fun to think about now, but in the moment a young Caspian had spent far too long mulling over possible answers, disturbing his eldest brother from his studies for a clue or at least a hint that he was heading in the right direction. He figured it was probably the reason he hated them so much. 'It's not that hard Cas! You don't need my help, I've got work to do.' The prince missed those moments with his brothers when they were young and had time for each other. Missed not being able to spend days reading or running around or learning from them, even if they played mindless tricks to wind him up.
Hylas fought a smile as Cas told his story, not wanting to seem too enamoured with the sunny image of loving brothers and a childhood free of terror. It was hard to imagine that anyone in the world could wake up well, happy, and without the fear of death hunting them down. It was even harder to imagine a childhood so bloodless. "It really bothered you?" Hylas asked with a soft laugh, "You didn't give up. You were stubborn, then, even as a little prince." His smile began to fade as questions of his own childhood crept in. What had young Hylas been like? There wasn't anything in his daily life that found a need for personality. When all he cared about was ensuring his safety and his next meal, there was simply no energy that could go into such a thing. Sure, he had habits and inclinations— instincts that told him to stay near the other street children at night; when or when not to steal and if he could afford to share anything, which wasn't usually the case. But as a child, he had nothing but pain and fear to determine his next thoughts and actions. Now, he was afforded the curse of free thought in the time between struggles. Still. Who was he, if not a killer trying to distract himself? In his tangent reverie, he'd forgotten the warming pan and looked over to see that the oil had almost grown too hot. With two slender sticks of polished wood, Hylas carefully lowered each square of spiced dough into the sizzling glaze of oil and sighed at the immediate aroma wafting up from the steam. Wordlessly, he reached over into Cas' neatly cut pile of vegetables and threw the wild sondil in with the crisping dough. "Were you…close with your brothers?" Hylas quietly asked, painfully curious but terrified of upsetting him. The inner life of a prince was something close to no one knew about, just like the inner life of an assassin. But beyond any detached interest in a royal upbringing, Hylas wanted to know what had shaped Cas into the glowing man before him; full of effortless grace and novel kindness.
"For a start, I wasn't that little." A small lie. In age, maybe he had been, barely even a teenager at the time. Old enough that he should have known when his brothers were lying to him but Cas had always been a child who hadn't grown up as fast as his brothers. In figure, he'd always been the shortest, the smallest, the one easily tackled in late-night wrestling matches. He always made up for it in speed rather than strength. He sighed softly, "Yes, I was." Growing up the trio of boys had been inseparable. One was rarely seen without the other two, especially when Cas was young. By the time Aeron was studying to become king, Arin training to join the guardsmen, they drifted more than Cas had wanted, probably more than he remembered in truth, "As they grew older and took on more duties we… we drifted a little. Too busy to spend time with their younger brother." When the war rolled around they'd grown closer once more. Arin teaching him how to fight properly, Aeron letting him sit in on strategy sessions and explaining what everything meant once everyone present had left. Spending nights with each other just talking, drinking in the moments they could spend together before the next battle. Before they died. The rising guilt at the memories that followed had Cas' smile threatening to fall. Years of faking smiles had him fixing the problem as soon as it was noticed, turning his thoughts away from battle and to the happy memories, the good memories, times were he wasn't responsible for his brother's death, "But," He sighed, continuing back on the last of the vegetables to distract himself, "I know we loved each other the same. Even with the made-up riddles." To go back to the days where they would play in the soft grass of the palace gardens, running around in the flowers and laughing with no care and no responsibility to weigh on any of them. He missed it.
Hylas watched as Cas' smile wavered as he thought and spoke of his brothers, lost in deep affection coloured by the familiar shadows of loss. It pained him to know that a person so inherently good as Cas could have lived through so many tragedies. Two brothers and a mother. So Cas knew grief. Hylas wore a soft smile as he gazed at his companion, imaging all the love and teasing he must have grown up with. A part of him was jealous that Cas had had a life of such comfort and affection, and another part was in awe of what Eirus' royal family had brought up. The person who stood before him had the air and stature of a prince, yes, but in the gentle slouch of his shoulders and the crooked curl of his smile was the humble warmth of a person who knew love and so many little treasures of life. Treasures of virtue and service, knowledge and curiosity, rest and satisfaction. In Hylas' lifetime, these treasures were few and unknown, but every moment he shared with the prince set of a gentle alarm which told him to look and remember the verdancy of his irises, the uncompromising mess of his hair, and the way his face flowed into a smile at clever retorts or pleasant, private thoughts. "I'm sure they wanted to spend time with you," Hylas said, flipping over the sweet dough crisping into golden squares and reaching for Cas' chopped whiteroot, "You may be stubborn, but you're hard to dislike. I don't really know you but…I get what people say about you." He shrugged, throwing the vegetables in the sizzling pan and instantly regretting his honesty. Was that… too much? Too personal? "—I mean with your reputation." What? "Of…being kind and intelligent and funny and…stupid. I don't know," He laughed a little breathlessly, trying to cover up his flurry of compliments with a travelling gaze and a shaking head.
Cas blinked a few times, processing the array of compliments coming from Hylas. He hadn't expected it, going bright red a few moments later, "I-" He cleared his throat. He was just going off of reputation, right? He didn't actually think those things. He's just staying that. He doesn't mean it. "Now I know you're talking out your rear." Cas shook his head softly. He might be good at politics, but there were so many others like him who could do the job. And being kind was just normal human decency. Cas tried to stay away from talks about his 'reputation' and how he was doing as a leader. Too much of a distraction. He only wanted to know unless something dire came up about him. Not that it ever did to his relief. He hated it. Hated people talking and chattering and gossiping and making up rumours. Trying to find out who he was interested in or with, judging him on how he was running his kingdom, taking care of his people and family. It made him uncomfortable to know people talked about him. The feeling wasn't as strong as it had been when he first started out. He'd always lingered in the shadows of his older brothers and he liked it that way. Now there was nowhere to hide and nowhere to run from the whispers of the public, "Being a nice person is just… human decency. It's nothing to be celebrated when everyone should be the same." The rational part of Cas gently reminded him there were many people out there who lacked human kindness, that people weren't as nice and caring as he was or wanted to believe. Or maybe it was the larger part of him who didn't believe those compliments, he couldn't work out.
"Some people go entire lifetimes without…receiving or expressing kindness," Hylas said, thinking of how bleak some years had been. Plagues, wars, famine, disasters, the waves of overdoses in Volytra. When lifeless bodies covered the streets, there were always people who simply stepped over them, past the few still alive and slowly dying and looking away from the ones that weakly stared in their direction. It didn't matter if you were the kindest man in the village before the bodies dropped, in the morning, you needed to get through. It wasn't until Hylas had started travelling through wealthier, busier cities that he realized the amount of tragedy that he'd seen in his life was a horrific rarity in a sea of moderate comfort and pleasure. He would never be able to describe the feeling of walking into Rynia long before the war and after years of swallowing down so many terrible events and seeing people happy. Even the beggars were well enough to whistle a tune or laugh at a street performer. It was long after that when Hylas thoroughly came to understand that life wasn't supposed to be a constant, bloody struggle. Not like this. "Just because it should be normal doesn't mean we should treat it as a common thing. Because it's not. Not in the way that matters," He said, keeping his gentle smile as he poured a small cup of water into the pan and threw a lid over top. The water screamed in a muffled sizzle as the crispy sweet dough expanded into cloudy puffs. Hylas shrugged, regarding Cas with quiet admiration as he brought up his few thoughts on what it meant to be good. "I mean…I didn't know the word 'kindness' until I was fifteen, in any language. No one ever taught me wrong from right; the difference between good and bad…" Hylas sighed, shrugging helplessly again as he looked away, "So…I had to figure it out for myself. And from that, I learned a lot of things…about people. And one of those things is that kindness is rare. Very."
The prince sighed softly, nodding along as Hylas spoke. He was right. Cas had been lucky enough to spend his life surrounded by those who held him in higher standing, treated him better than anyone else. He'd been blessed to have his life filled with mostly good people, kind people. There was the off noble here and there but Cas was fortunate, he was well aware of it, "I suppose maybe that's why I haven't abdicated." He shrugged, "There aren't many rulers as kind as people say I am, I guess." He'd seen too many rulers succumb to greed and power before he even knew what they were. A child amidst the sea of corruption that was the political landscape of Mavadora, then a teenager, still barely understanding why he was fighting in the war over something that could be solved with a conversation between rulers. It wasn't until after the dust and blood had settled had Cas realised how hard it was going to be to stay a kind man among snakes, "Maybe after this war people will understand kindness a little better." When it was their loved ones dying in the field of battle or screaming for help when no one could reach them would they understand how far just a little kindness could go. A shame it was so hard for people to be good these days. It still baffled Cas, but after trudging through years of politics and learning the way of the land, he understood a little better now, even if he didn't agree. Cas drummed his hands on the table, watching Hylas cook and peer over the pan as the water hissed at them. Hylas might have done some bad things, terrible deeds, but Cas had killed too, and seeing him, learning more about the great assassin in a different light made him seem all the less terrible than he had originally deemed him to be.
Hylas hummed in wordless agreement, nodding as his gaze travelled around the dusty room. Even in speaking of his own kindness, Hylas saw how Cas could only think of himself through the words of others. How suffocating must it have been to have lived in the ceaseless limelight of expected perfection? "Well…the thing is, Cas, you are kind," He breathed, suddenly alight with the need to move and distract himself, "…Much kinder than I'm used to." And much kinder than I'd like you to be, at this proximity. If his manner came across as nervous, Hylas couldn't have noticed. Now, as he tried conversing with a person for the first time with intuitive honesty, he was so focused on breathing and actually speaking to care if he looked troubled. His voice cut through the relative silence like an uncertain knife and his heart thundered in confusion. "And I think…that's the problem I'm having with you." It was the reason Hylas always found something to twist into an argument when they were getting along. Anything remotely kind coming from Cas triggered an unforeseen crisis in Hylas' way of predicting threats. "I trust you" sounded like "lower your guard for me and see what happens." "I'm sorry you had to endure all of that" sounded like "I can see how much you want your pain to be acknowledged," and even "you're a good cook" sounded too suspicious for Hylas to believe. As they were getting to know each other, Hylas found that he'd been caught in a vicious cycle of doubt, anger, apology, and kindness that led back to suspicion whenever the conversation swayed from their mutual goal. His movements slowed as he approached the stove, gently removing the lid so the last of the water could simmer away. Biting his lip, he avoided Cas' gaze as he gave the crispy sweet dough dumplings a final flip. "You have to understand, I can't control—" He shook his head, exhaling his personal frustration as he heard the defensive rise in his tone. With a flickering look to Cas, he softened his words. "See? Everything's a threat. Even kindness. Especially kindness. It's hard for me…to accept so it's hard for me to trust that it isn't a trap." He wanted to trust Cas more than anything; he wanted to believe that he could surrender his guard and be met with the beauty of his sincerity. But the ghosts of his past had a strong hold on him, and he couldn't risk an inch. Hylas sat in the silence between them for a long time, painfully forcing himself to hold Cas' gaze for his next words. "I'm sorry. About storming off earlier. You were trying to be kind and I…couldn't understand it. Or…believe it."
Cas chewed his lower lip, sighing through his nose as he considered Hylas words and formed a reply, taking care of what his next words were going to be. Trust was as much a luxury as kindness was and they were in an impossible predicament where they had to trust each other to ensure their own survival, "You had every right not to." He replied, offering a small smile, "Trust isn't something that can be taken lightly, and especially when you've lived your whole life not knowing who you can put that trust in so…" He shrugged, crossing his legs underneath him on the small wooden chair, "I forgive you, if that makes you feel better about earlier." It wasn't going to be easy. The next few days Cas was prepared for other arguments over things he thought to be small and insignificant. To Hylas, they weren't, and that was okay, Cas could work with that. He couldn't imagine what he had had to live through, and patience went a long way in the grand scheme of things, "If you need to be… less kind? I suppose I could try, don't know how well that would go but still." It was the least he could do after all Hylas had helped him with so far. Cas supposed that was kindness in itself. Hard to shake off something that was ingrained into your system and a deep part of you. Or maybe it was the quiet, lurking part of him Cas was ignoring that wanted Hylas to like him and be comfortable around him. The part he was happy pushing down and not thinking about as of now, too much of a distinction and future complications to ignore if he started to consider what that meant. Especially when in a few days the probability of Hylas being out of his life was high and the chances of him ever seeing the assassin again were low.
Hylas could feel his cheeks burning at Cas' reply; his forgiveness bestowed upon him so casually and his offer so thoughtlessly kind. "N– No. I couldn't ask you to act differently for me. You're not at fault, after all," He said, his gaze leaping from the stove to Cas' gentle expression. Gods, if kindness could kill… "No. You've done everything right. It's me that needs to work on…trust." Even now, as he held the honest smile of a famously kind prince, a voice whispered for his eyes to note the unmoving curve of his smile and the nature of his past few replies. Was Hylas too quick to believe they were genuine reassurances? There was still a chance that Cas was saving the knowledge of his insecurity to work against him in the future. Inspiring guilt was a precious device for a politician, and with the noted sights of of Cas' rose-dusted cheeks and widening pupils, Hylas could feel a certainty beginning to simmer in his gut. He's hiding something. That much, aside from the rest of his paranoid ideas, was true. "But in any case…thank you. I suppose. Even though I walked away, you didn't argue and make things worse with trying to prove my…relative innocence— which I still dispute, but you carried on, which is…" Hylas said with a heavy sigh, readying a few plates and serving out the crispy sweet dough and vegetables to distract from Cas' watchful green gaze, "…Rare, I think. From what I've seen from afar, bitterness can seem like hostility to others. Especially to others just trying to help."
Cas picked at the loose thread on the end of his shirt, "I… When you spend as much time around people as I do, you learn quickly that not everything can be solved by simply running after the other, and that space can do as much good as conversation." Which battles to fight and which to let go. Who to push and who to leave alone when days turn sour in drawing rooms too lightless and cold. Time was an asset, Cas learned, the greatest one besides patience when it came to politics, and even now, they paid off, "You have spent your entire life in the shadows, trust will not just arrive in a snap of fingers or- or spending three days with a complete stranger. I understand. When your life revolves around others it becomes easy to read people." And yet, even so, Hylas still was a complete mystery. When expressing emotions out of his control like earlier, yes, easy to understand how to progress without damaging the wound further, but when he kept those feelings locked away and those dark eyes unreadable, even Cas couldn't figure out what was truly happening behind his features. The longer he spent with Hylas the more he wished to know more. Every word spoken not about the shared mission at hand, with as much banter as there had been, still seemed cautious, still lacking somehow. There would be no relaxing, at least not to the extent Cas hoped there would be, while they were here. Hylas couldn't trust him, for good reason, and if Cas was smart he shouldn't trust Hylas, but he was too caught up in the gaze of the dark eyes assassin to remember to be smart about the whole situation.
Hylas listened to Cas with quiet interest, moving slowly to the table with their lunch in hand. In a thoughtful sway of tone and gentle explanation, the prince's words were received with soft reverence, stirring the nameless admiration in Hylas that saw his every word and movement in impossible light. How could he know such a thing? Just from observation? Hylas cleared his throat, hesitating before taking a seat at the dusty table, looking at Cas through the ghostly curls of steam drifting up from their lunch. "Uh…" He breathed, exhaling with a smile and eyes alight with pleasant surprise, "I didn't think…you'd understand, but you do. Hmm." At least it seems that way. A quiet sting of suspicion crept into his flowing awe, digging for an angle that the prince might be looking to exploit. All that understanding— from where? Why? How? He held their shared look with careful consideration, silently searching Cas' face and the echoing memory of his words with invisible scrutiny. …Nothing. Hylas swallowed, looking down as he nodded to himself. This was another genuine statement, and paired with the mysterious relief of receiving empathy from a potential threat— unlikely threat was the heart-fluttering surprise of direct forgiveness. "Reading people is different for me," Hylas quietly began, picking up his fork and carefully cutting through a crisp dumpling. He thought of all the times observation and instinct had saved him. Twitch of a smile, pupil flared, stuttered hand, hitched breath. Physical patterns arose in all with secrets and ill intentions, and when they met the knowing eyes of the Raven, they never lived to lie again. "It's all faces and movement. Not so much words and voices, you know? That's harder because…I haven't been accustomed and all."
Cas picked up a dumpling with his fork, chewing slowly as he listened to Hylas speak. He hadn't expected anything different. They lived two different lives that required completely different skills. Politics was all words, finding the double meanings between suggestions, the underlying tones and hidden meanings and agendas. Even the youngest of those in royal councils learned quickly to hear beneath what was being spoken. To ignore was to be taken advantage of, Cas learned that the hard way, but he wouldn't let it happen again. Now it was hard to switch the skill off when it wasn't needed, friends and family were different but in the end, somehow, it seemed to work in his favour, "That's understandable," He said, stirring the food in his bowl, "We live two different lives. I'm not the best when it comes to accessing movements so," He shrugged, "Have to make up for it in other ways." But as Cas looked at Hylas from across the small table, the slight smile on the assassin's face was hard to go unnoticed, considering he barely smiled and even when he did it wasn't for very long, "But it all comes with practice. Just as you are better when it comes to how people move, politics doesn't need that, really. When you're sitting down for hours on end it's hard to read movements, but tones? Those are easier." Cas couldn't count the number of times where someone had slipped up during a meeting. The soft, agreeable voice became slightly too harsh for even just a moment revealing just a little of what was going on behind the eyes of whoever was seated across from him.
Hylas hummed in consideration, chewing thoughtfully as he imagined the life of a busy prince. Speeches, meetings, councils meetings, more meetings, Gods. These last few days had been exhausting for him, and beyond the full hours of walking and fending for themselves, actually talking for the first time in ages had drained him of some hidden supply of mental strength, and at the end of each day, the strange wonder of sharing words with a fair stranger mingled with the tiring force of having to articulate thoughts. He couldn't imagine what hours of talking every day was like for Cas, and even trying to comprehend it overwhelmed him. "But…how can tones be easy?" He asked, picking at his cooked vegetables with a look of amused confusion, "The way someone talks is just…their voice. How can you tell if they're a threat or…lying, I mean?" Hylas exhaled a breathy laugh, shaking his head at his own foolish words. The questions that drove his reply came from a place of bright-eyed curiosity— almost awe. There was a reflexive need to learn, within Hylas. Like a child deprived of sound or colour, being in the company of a free-speaking person as intelligent and interesting as the prince of Eirus tempted him with hidden facts of humanity and interconnection. All that he'd watched from afar seemed so close now— close enough to touch, but the strange need to appear relatively normal and unbothered conflicted his excited urges to question him. "I mean…I know that trembling hands, travelling eyes and such things give liars away. But…I don't see how you could possibly claim that…hearing a lie is something that can be done!" With a nervous warning of a blush above his gentle smile, Hylas considered if the prince's ability was real and if he'd sensed dishonesty within Hylas— though thankfully, Hylas couldn't recall anything severe enough for him to lie about in the days he'd spent talking to the prince. "I'd wager…that if I told you a lie among truths you wouldn't be able to pick it out," He said, pointing his fork at the prince with an air of playful accusation.
"It's all about emphasis," Cas knocked Hylas' fork with his own, smile growing as he continued to speak, "When you're listening to someone talk, comprehending what they're saying, you begin to notice where they stress their words, what they deem important. When they lie, it's different, only slightly, but it's there if you listen hard enough." Cas still recalled when he first truly understood when his father was lying to him. Stressing the first part of his name combined with the occasional scoff at a question that was too close to the truth was a dead giveaway, as well as taking less time to think about his words, forcing his voice only a fraction higher than normal to appear more innocent, "And," He went on, twiddling with the utensil in his hand, "Pitch changes. Too high or too low. It's all about the small details in the bigger picture." Someone could talk for hours on end, standing and making declarations and promises that would never be fulfilled, but even if it was just for a fraction of a second, the wrong word was stressed or they finished their sentence a tad too harshly, even breathed in a place they generally wouldn't, it was over, "Hells, you could be saying you experienced the most outlandish attack and fought a bear off with your bare hands but the moment you stress the wrong word, the wrong syllable, even pause to think or raise your voice higher, it gives you away." Cas experienced the world through sound, through words. Reading and listening to speeches and meetings. He had to know these things. A simple twitch wasn't enough for him to understand, but words revealed deeper about a person than any movement ever would. But looking at Hylas now, truly listening to him, it was harder to pick up the undertones, harder to know what was going on, what his intentions were besides what was being shown. He spoke in a way that did let up he hadn't been around people. Speaking softly when there was no reason to be quiet. Pausing for breaths in sentences to think about his next words where others would not. Different. But not in a bad way. Cas wanted to learn those habits, be able to read him as he could others, "However, I'm sure if you were to lie in between truths I would not be able to pick up on it."
Hylas regarded the prince with silent awe as he explained the hidden secrets of human speech. With his lunch forgotten and cooling on the table, he considered the echoing facts that resounded in his mind with attentive wonder. Stress, pitch, tone, syllables, volume… Hylas didn't quite know what to make of the words half-known to him, except noting where they were used in context told him that there was much unknown to him in the world of speech. He supposed that emotions were the thing to elevate a lie, and since everything said between people had some notion of feelings or goals to prompt a statement, everyone had a particular way of lying. Hylas didn't like the idea of Cas— or anyone knowing his words well enough to hear what secrets were hidden beneath. He met the early rise of new suspicion with patient dismissal, but the exchange was interrupted by the heart-fluttering fear of those feelings taken from his words. If what Cas said was true about certain 'giveaways' in speech, then surely he would've noticed the strange shyness that arose whenever they spoke to each other. "I don't understand," He said with a softened laugh and fighting a blush, "You'd just finished describing the…current of speech and how to fish truth from it." With a challenging smile, he rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. "Why don't you prove it to me? I want to see your theory put to work," He said, with the mixed excitement and sarcasm of a spectator awaiting a street magician's trick, "Is it because you're afraid of being proven wrong? Hmm? Is that it?"
Cas felt heat rising to his cheeks, glancing between Hylas and the bowl of food in front of him as he took a couple of quick bites before he replied, hoping the redness had died down at least a little, "No- No I.. I don't mind being proven wrong," but Hylas was different. Not just because he was an assassin, not because he wasn't accustomed to speech and conversation but… Cas couldn't place was exactly it was. He'd spent hours upon hours with councils for days on end, it was easy to understand how they spoke when they were all the same. Hylas well, he wasn't, "Fine then." Cas sighed, resting his head in his hand, "Two truths and a lie and we'll see if I can pick up on it." He wasn't going to back down to the challenge, maybe only a little excited to be able to impress Hylas above anything, the feeling making his heart race in hopes that he could prove himself. Rationality reminded him that it didn't matter whether or not he could pick the lie and yet the way that Hylas' eyes lit up, even for a brief moment when he listened to what Cas was saying had him more determined than ever to be able to find the falsehood between truths. Harder to find when he barely knew anything about Hylas. Anything could be true, especially with the things he had done and the places he had travelled, what he'd seen over the years. Spending time with men who did nothing but stay in their homes of grandeur and party made it simple, almost too easy, to understand. Three days was barely a fair equivalent and Hylas had some much hidden beneath his pretty face. It had his stomach flipping as he readied himself to find the lie.
"Right then," Hylas said, dark eyes floating to the side as a thoughtless smile grew wide on his face. Folding his arms, he leaned back in his chair and readied a few statements to test Cas with. The anticipation of the prince's reply stirred up a simmering excitement towards witnessing some new miracle or psychic ability. "Okay, so…" He began, clearing his throat before meeting Cas' gaze, "One. I've been through every kingdom in Mavadora." He nodded to himself in satisfaction, thinking quickly to come up with another as quietly laughed to the side. "Two. The region I mentioned at your party— Arofjord —is actually a real city in Valthea." Hylas watched Cas as he said his final statement, taking care to appear truthful as he watched those green eyes watch him in careful consideration. The intensity of his gaze was a strange, peaceful thing as much as it was ruthless in its noble scrutiny. Gods, if he always looked this serious— Like a feather in strong hands, Hylas felt held by the soft tether of their attention and proximity. A comfortable vertigo tightened the air around the figure before him, and he drew in a slow breath. "Three. Everything I said…about myself at your ball…I made up on the spot."
Cas listened carefully, practically drinking in Hylas' words, thinking them over, noting the breaths and pauses. The first statement had to be true, even if he'd just passed through the kingdom on his way to another, Cas had no doubt Hylas had seen the entirety of the continent from the witches in Croucan all the way to the North. He thought back to the party, their conversations about stars and all that they held, there wasn't any part of him that felt that statement was false. You couldn't fake passion, not when Hylas loved the stars so dearly. It had to be the second statement. If Arofjord was a real city, why hadn't he heard of it? He's seen no mention of it on any map and… the time taken to think of the statement compared to others seemed too short, too rushed. His gut told him it was clearly the lie, but it didn't stop Cas from taking a little longer to consider the others, too. Cas' gaze stayed steady on Hylas throughout, watching him, studying him as if he were a book he wished to read and learn from. Eventually, he shrugged, "The second point." Finally, he tore his gaze back down to the food. He could be totally and utterly wrong. Hylas was like no one he had ever encountered before and he might trust himself when it came to picking lies from politicians, he didn't when it came to Hylas, not in the slightest.
Hylas exhaled with quiet disappointment, though his small smile remained. "It was the third; the lie," He said with curious sympathy. Why hadn't it worked? With all he said, even I was close to convinced that such a thing was possible. He picked up his fork, looking away from Cas for the first time in a while and readying a savoury bite of dumpling. He chewed, nodding thoughtfully as he recalled the inescapable blush that burned under his golden mask while he told Cas simple things that he had never told anyone. "I didn't make up everything at the ball…All that about…what I like, I mean. I do really like studying the stars and…music. But— but why didn't it work? Your ability?" Hylas quietly asked, suddenly shy at the mention of his own, formerly secret loves. Though he would never tell Cas, revealing such things about himself inspired a nameless feeling of excitement and unease, because someone knew something personal about him, and that had never, ever happened. It was unimaginable to think that somewhere in the prince's mind was a fact as simple as 'Hylas likes music,' and that it might live on indefinitely. How terrifying…and…wonderful. "That is if, If you remember me talking about myself. Because— it was a busy evening, and a lot happened, so maybe you can't quite recall—" Hylas chuckled breathlessly as flew off on a tangent, his thoughts derailing into his familiar consideration of how memory worked. His own process and maintenance of long-term memories had withered like autumn leaves over the years, and as much as he felt that it wasn't normal, he didn't want to cheat the prince of a harmless win when he might not have remembered something as unimportant as a foreign duke's flighting fancy.
Cas' heart sunk a little, though he wasn't surprised he had got it wrong, "I do remember, Hylas. I remember it very well," how could he not remember their first meeting? When they had danced together and talked like there were no problems in the world, "Like I said before, I didn't think I would be able to pick up on a lie from you." He shrugged, turning back to the food and eating in silence for a little while, "It's not some super ability, Hylas." He said quietly, staring down at the near-empty bowl, "And I'm not some… incredible lie-finder. It's easy when- when you're surrounded by the same people every day. When you learn about the person and their quirks. It's harder when you've just met someone and- and they're different from anyone else you've ever met." Cas offered a small smile, quietly sorry that he hadn't impressed Hylas how he had hoped and lived up to the expectation. Then again, he was used to that feeling by now, "Anyway, it doesn't matter," Cas laughed softly to brush off his embarrassment, "We can't all be perfect at everything, where's the fun in that." Perfect. He hated the word, tried his hardest not to use it. A quiet reminder that everyone thought him to be this perfect prince and would be the perfect king for a perfect kingdom who would be perfect, perfect perfect. All the failed expectations he hadn't met and the ones he was meant to make. He supposed it was very true now, sitting before Hylas when the assassin he had hoped to impress seemed disappointed with him, now. It doesn't matter. Who cares, anyway. Well, Cas did, even if he tried to convince himself otherwise.
Hylas smile weakened, his shoulders sinking at the self-conscious colours of Cas' words. "Hey," He quietly began, giving Cas' leg a gentle nudge under the table, "I understand." A shrug. His shy smile twitched with a quiet playfulness as he picked up on the prince's sullen raincloud. "It was just for fun. I was teasing. And I do believe you. As strange as what you've described appears to me, It makes sense; all the ways of knowing someone through their words." Hylas took a deep breath to give pause for his statement before leaning forward on his elbows, bright-eyed and entranced by the prince's humble statements. He really remembers everything I said? His dumplings had grown cold, and he pushed them to the side. In the prince's eyes of silent defeat, Hylas recognized a twinge of personal frustration that was buried deep in the early frowns of failure. "It doesn't matter," Hylas almost whispered in agreement, nodding very softly and smiling as he held the prince's gaze, "You don't know me yet." Stories, memories, and habits— He knew the prince was full of them. His own memories were fractured, strange and dark, but in between horrors there were always pleasant intervals of travelling and relative wellness. Hylas had no stories except the folk tales he'd carried from childhood and stolen from books, but the journey from one kingdom to another wasn't always a shipwreck or ambush for him to survive through. If he tried, Hylas was sure he could find something to make Cas smile. As for habits, Hylas was aware of none, except for his compulsive trips to the river at night and his instinct to whisper when he wasn't focussed on speaking. But how Hylas wished the prince knew him. Not just to finish their game of finding a lie, but to ease the hidden yearning and curiosity that bothered him in thought and conversation. He wished anyone knew him. Receiving what Cas had just shared was likely the faintest impression of what was truly unknown to Hylas, and though he could only imagine the expanse of information within the prince's knowledge, Hylas knew he couldn't show so much wonder and eagerness as a man of heavy debts. In the silence, his voice broke through with the faintest smile to be heard in his hushed reassurance. "You can't…help…that I'm a strange creature and…I can't help being quietly fascinated by a prince— or stranger that wanders into my…life. So…don't feel bad." How effortlessly articulate. Well done. That wasn't stuttered or awkward at all.
Yet. The word stuck with Cas. Would he ever get the chance to know Hylas properly? Learn what made him tick, what else he enjoyed apart from the sky and the stars and the rivers that flowed and danced through the countrysides of Valthea. Hear more about his past, all the dark details he kept hidden from view. Cas couldn't bring himself to look away until he realised he was staring, going red as he glanced to the side a little, "You're not… that strange." He said quietly, nudging Hylas back as a small smile brought its way back to his lips. Like everyone else Cas had ever met Hylas had his own stories to tell, his own ways of living, surviving, small quirks that made him him but Cas had never been so entranced by a person before. Even before he found out who Hylas truly was, at the ball, he could feel himself wanting to know more, ask more questions, discover who the man truly was. Cas didn't know if knowing he was the raven made that feeling stronger or not, but undeniably it made his heart flutter whenever he thought, or even acknowledged it, "You're just… different, and that's good it's… nice." He shrugged. It kept Cas wanting, wishing for more. More time, more conversation, more anything. Everyone else was so boring. Always trying to please or suck up to him to get Cas on their side. Fakeness. A common trait among most he came into contact with, especially those of higher standing, those he spent the most time with. Hylas wasn't like that, he never had been, and Cas hoped he never would. It was refreshing, but it wasn't just that. It was everything else that made Hylas, Hylas, minus the assassin part but Cas couldn't ignore that was who he was. But now that he knew even just a little about who he was, Cas didn't care as much.
Hylas tried not to smile at the coy suggestion, the reciprocated touch of his knees shocking him out of his thoughtful reverie. Reflexively, he leaned away from the table, letting out a breathless laugh that was as bashful as it was nervous over the half-unexpected action. That's a far reach from dancing with him and tying him up. He couldn't help the shyness that arose from unanticipated touching; as it wasn't just Cas that prompted a reaction out of him. He always thought it akin to the yearning of sailors; minus the promiscuous nature of their desire. For Hylas, solitude had changed him into a being of electric nerves and too many reflexes. Whether it was a gruff shoulder-check or the tempting hands of the rare barmaid brushing over his, his heart thundered at contact. "It's not always nice," He said, smiling as he looked down at his lunch, picking at it and taking small bites out of a need to move his hands, "But I'm sure you know that. You mean 'different' like…Well, I don't quite know the common word for it but in Valthean it's diveskeli." Hylas shrugged dismissively, his eyes travelling the room as he looked to settle on a translation that wasn't as flattering as its true definition. "Means…something that has a quality. Uh…Of being particularly appealing— n- not necessarily because its interesting. But…more because it's complicated." He uttered the line with a terrible blush, trying not to let the complimentary shade of Cas' passing remark on his 'nice' quality bleed into his way of understanding how he was different. Because he was different, and as much as he did want Cas to ignore his darker parts, he didn't want to make his acquaintance with more deceit for the second time. "But uh, you know what you're talking about."
Cas crossed his legs back under him on the chair, steadying himself by leaning on the table and resting his head in his hand, "You can't be interesting without being complicated, and you're both, I suppose." He drew his gaze back to Hylas, head tilting to the side slightly as he spoke. A simple truth. It was what made Cas come back wanting to learn more about his mysterious companion. They might have met under a guise that astray from the truth but it wasn't all entirely false. Lies came to in the end. Hylas had eventually told him who he was and why he had kidnapped him in the first place. Cas couldn't be entirely mad at him, not when the situation had changed so drastically in a span of mere minutes. His mind wandered back to the Valthean word Hylas had used. Diveskeli. Cas wasn't the best when it came to language. He understood the bare basics of the most common dialects used in Mavadora but his knowledge was far less than fluent in Valthean. For a start, he'd never heard the word before, much to his silent embarrassment. The way the word had rolled off Hylas' tongue had Cas wishing he would speak more, though he wouldn't admit it out loud as of yet, "What I'm trying to say, I guess, is that… compared to most people I've met… it's refreshing to find someone who doesn't feel the need to…" He sighed, shaking his head a little, "I don't know, ignore that, it's just nice to have different company." To find the words for how appreciative he felt to Hylas for not acting like a stuck up noble or royal was harder than thought and for once he wasn't able to express that. For a man who knew much about words, Cas wasn't living up to that right now.
