"Yes, Gerard Segremors. I'm honored, and glad to hear you're all having a good time." He replied, belatedly inclining his head to the Princess after a nod to Sir Nicomede, acknowledging his name. Were this a different time and place, he'd have mentioned his surprise at being remembered, particularly by the Princess— but he couldn't quite focus on the pleasant feelings of acknowledgement.
"Sorry to say, I'm a bit jumpier," he continued, tossing an apologetic smile towards Rowan Balthier. The blue-haired spearman was infamously patient in battle, enough that even Gerard had heard tell of it, but seemed nonetheless miffed by the air the swordsman had carried into their group. How unfortunate.
"I was surprised to see you all right in front of me after I made it through the congregation. I'd been meaning to ask Sir Fleuri something, but was forced to give chase once he cut through to Paladin Tyaethe. He's quite fast when he wants to be."His mind was, naturally, racing as he gave the explanation. There were a few ways he could go about this, and with his information so limited, he didn't want to overstep what he knew when relaying his troubles. In the event he was wrong, it could be potentially catastrophic for everyone involved. There was such a thing as being too careful.
Gillian Reynauld, it seemed, was of like mind. Of those present, he was the one Gerard knew best, though that was saying little. The Living Reliquary had a penchant for dry absurdism to keep the mood light, joking about lighting himself on fire to escape capture and such, but beneath it he had a solid head on his shoulders. The man had an eye for people, in spite of (or perhaps because, thinking about it) his jabs and jests. Gerard saw as much firsthand when he'd consoled and advised Captain Fanilly in the aftermath of the raid. Perhaps it'd be best to follow his pace now. Clearly he was the object of some concern, after all...
"I'll be honest, for a hick like me, the Drider or Nem would be preferable to this," he joked, watching the one he didn't recognize swipe a bottle from the table and saunter off as he did so, happily bumping into a few other guests shoulder-first.
"It's a lot simpler swinging my sword at whatever our Captain needs me to than minding my manners and worrying about stumbling straight into the royal family, you know?"The unnamed woman quite evidently didn't share those concerns. She hadn't seemed nearly so deep in her cups prior. Not when he'd glanced upon her group, at any rate...
Still, be it intentional theatrics or coincidental intoxication, it served to get eyes off of them for the moment— and doubly so once she spotted a tall, armored man out at the edge of the gardens, raucously calling out to a "Sir Gareth". Whether or not that was somebody he recognized in name or form didn't matter at all.
All that mattered was that this was an
opening.
"In fact, if I could confide something, ma'am..."As the clamor tore yet more gazes away from the group, including hopefully the Princess's, Gerard stepped forward and leaned in close to the teenaged leader of their order, speaking in a low, clipped undertone. The Captain needed to know, if nothing else, what he had seen. If the other knights overheard, fine enough— they were all clearly more experienced than he in this field to begin with. They'd know what to do with what he said, so long as he relayed it clearly.
"That man's nerve doesn't rattle for anything. I don't know what by, but he was spooked enough to all but rush to Tyaethe and Jerel. If you can link up with one'a them, he probably passed it on. That's all I've got."He jerked his head back towards the scene near the gardens and let a wry smirk play on his face as he took a moment to return to his full height and "meet the eyes" of his fellows once more. Fanilly, Rowan, Gillian, Nicomede— he did share a glance with each in turn, yes, but the wide sweep of his amber gaze took in as much of the crowd behind them as it could.
It pained him to twist the embarrassing circumstances of what he could only assume to be a compatriot into something so self-serving, but she'd given him a golden opportunity not only to answer the curiosity of his superior officer, but he could not help but of what he had meant to ask his fellow Reonite in the first place—
"So, seeing as I can't escape my concerns, I seek guidance from my betters. Would you mind if I shadowed you all for a while? You seem to be quite comfortable with the many manners of court. I've much to learn, that's clear enough."—and it served as a good alibi now that one was needed, when returning to normal speaking volume. While he was of the mind that "technically not lying" was in turn only "technically still alright", it would be a price he'd pay for a reason to stick close. If he couldn't bear it, then he did not deserve to pledge his oath to this Order.
Whatever it takes. If there's one person who I could assume would be endangered, she stands before me in white and gold.
"I mean, I already know to not drink as much as that one, so head start there."