Kell opened his mouth, and found that he was at a loss for what to say.

Neria had known Kell on a battlefield. In a collar. They'd met covered in dirt and blood and sweat, smelling of desperation. Their friendship had been forged by the fireside, feet sore from marching and terrible wine spreading its lingering taste in their mouths as they spoke of things that Kell, at least, had never spoken of to anyone else.

Neria had never seen him like this. As the brother of a prince, standing in the palace he'd grown up in, fit into too easily. Down the hall from the room that had been his since he'd been a child.

What left Neria wide-eyed and impressed was Kell's every day, and it was difficult not to be painfully aware of it.

All he could do was nod.

Kell set the boxes on the dresser alongside the ones Neria had been carrying and lingered there -- before glancing at the guards still shadowing the doorway.

"Speaking of- when would they like to see us?"

"As soon as you're both settled, sir." Hastra answered, lingering somewhat awkwardly in the doorway. Kell paused, then nodded.

"Neria? Do you need anything before I leave you alone?"