"Why, adventure, good sir. I take it that you're here to join us?"
Cassius didn't need much time to respond, given that his response was merely a small nod and maybe a hum of acknowledgment. This was good, because if he had tried to speak, he would have been rudely interrupted by someone shouting above the subdued cacophony of the tavern. He had glanced over his shoulder to see who exactly was doing the shouting and had found that not just one, but two women were approaching with desires for adventure as well. As a matter of fact, there was one coming straight towards them, slamming the letter on the table as she did so.
"You the one who sent this letter?"
"That would be me, yes. Prince Deston, sixth in line for the throne. And who would you be, ma'am?"
Cassius covered his mouth to hide the incredulous little frown that snuck onto his face - Deston really is that stupid. If somehow a target wasn't on his back before, it's absolutely there now. Gods, announcing out loud that he's a prince with not a guard in sight? The prince is foolish, having such a naive optimism in his heart. If not for the fact it was such a dangerous view to have, Cassius would admire him for holding onto such innocence. Not that Cassius didn't have have a somewhat similar view himself, of course - he always hoped for the best, but he also planned for the worst. His dagger is at his side at all times for a reason, after all.
He continued to observe intently, but quietly.