Kayden listened intently to the instructions, keeping tabs not only on their objectives, but the mannerisms of his team. One curled finger at his lips, and his other hand idly toying with the fork he'd been given once he had finished. It paid to know who you were dealing with, and who was dealing with you. 

He found his room accommodating, the prince tired enough not to care overly much the conditions of his bed. It was far better than the dungeon, and after a bath and good food, he found the bed heavenly. He could have used a woman though, but then again he couldn't exactly have everything. 

When he awoke, he found a bucket of water and washed his hair, loosening the small string that tied up his shoulder length hair as he did so. His dark hair was thick and unruly, and he fixed it up again once it was dried. Some might say it was mere vanity, but longer hair did not help out in a fight if it got in the way. Now why he didn't cut it? That was vanity. Stripped to the waist, he was fit and trim, albeit with a few scars from years of fighting. He donned his chainmail and leather trappings, before heading out to the stables. 

He'd asked Oldrik for some small provisions, as well as a shortbow and about twenty arrows. He was no incredible archer, but he knew a thing or two. "Morning," he said lightly to Wren, reigning in his horse as she walked up.