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[img]https://i.imgur.com/WVq7Llm.png[/img]
[color=59849f][h2]Amerigo Spadoni[/h2][/color]
[color=50849f]Castle Hathforth, Present Day[/color]
[@AWildSquirtle][@Estylwen]
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Amerigo bowed his own head graciously upon his introduction by Aubri, in answer to the Countess— though not without catching that surreptitious glance sent his way with a wink and a sly smile. In truth, he had only a few inklings of what the little Angelite had told her in that moment, not even anything he could honestly call a guess— but if her eye was on [i]him[/i] now, for whatever reason, he saw no reason not to play it up for his audience.

[color=50849f]"Charmed, [i]Contessa[/i] Vernon. A shame we meet at such a trying hour."[/color]

The worst result he could imagine would still at least be funny, to say little of the best before it showed its face to him. He could always see when he was making an impression, whether he necessarily meant to or otherwise— and it was always found in those second appraisals, rather than the first. On that note, he took his own of the woman before him, beautiful and clearly the authority here— yet barely any older he or Aubri. It seemed they all shared responsibility some would consider beyond their meager years... [i]some[/i] would.

Sharp eyes set between her bedraggled dark waves stood out to him the most— in spite of the crisis she had been tasked with managing for hours now, she still found no lag within her will to start measuring, reading, and remembering with her gaze. He found it polite to make no attempt at hiding that keen eye— and afforded her similar courtesy.

It [i]was[/i] a different thing from the stress of the moment taking her instincts to the forefront, and sizing up any potential new threat like a wounded dog. He suspected the armor, stature, cape and title all earned at least in part off the backs of men and women that would not have been able to make that distinction quite so readily. She would be one to watch, regardless of how this went.

On the matter of watching... he placed his free hand behind himself (his sword arm at a leisurely rest upon his pommel, perhaps churlishly if you spared a moment to worry about it) and nudged the changeling further out from behind him, nodding his head to Raguelie.

[color=50849f]"In more immediate terms, we believed it best we ferry these two from those demons in the streets to people who might better be able to keep them safe, at least until this dreadful incursion subsides. I was rather insistent that I would see the both of them live another day, you see— and I'm afraid my employer and I had to drive the point home in the face of disagreeing voices."[/color]

Aubri, of course, was dead on the money regarding Amerigo's basic inclinations. He was a fighting man, an enthusiast in in his craft, a damned pain in the ass to convince to walk away from something like the second shade they'd run into out in the streets. Were he by his lonesome, he could easily see himself offering his services as a sword-for-hire just to rid the world of the abominations Dremora's Shade spewed out as well as get into an enjoyable fight.

But he wasn't. And he'd wait at least a little while longer to entrench the two of them, before he let his [i]every[/i] whim have its day in the sun.

Patience and poise separated good swords from great ones.

[color=50849f]"Given the circumstance we find ourselves having sailed into, we [i]do[/i] appreciate the hospitality. [i]And[/i] this moment we've stolen away from your duties, in the absence of Her Majesty."[/color]