[She's practically spoiling him. Perhaps once upon a time, this might have been considered commonplace. What else does one do with a prince, after all? In fact, in the moments he's had with Angela, Caim has admittedly felt more princely there than he has for the last seven, eight years. How long has it been? How old is he again? It feels like it's been eons since he's even looked at a calendar that wasn't Lunatian in nature. He doesn't even know if time works in this plane the way it does in Midgard. He doubts there's anyone he could ask about that either.
He's oblivious to her watching him. Or tries to be. The truth is, he can feel eyes on him. They don't necessarily have to be hers. He's almost certain that no matter where he goes, he's got unwanted attention. Usually from the Moonknights who are just waiting for him to slip up, so they have a reason to throw him in the cells for an undetermined amount of time. And as fun as that sounds, Caim understands he has to, for once, play by the rules that aren't set by him. It's kind of like having a bunch of Verdelets in his ear, reminding him of what his priorities need to be. The more things change, the more they stay the same, hmm?
When he's satisfied, he sets his device down, though leaves it on. He still needs it, after all. Although perhaps one day he won't need it at all. He wonders what kind of consequences would come from him ever seeing the return of his voice. Death, perhaps. Would he rather have [nigh] invincibility, or his voice at the price of his life? That's a hard question to answer now that he's not in the face of certain peril.]
"I take that to mean you would rather me to pay less attention to foreign machines and more to you." [It's not even an accusation. It's more like an observation in the only way Caim knows how to give one—straight and to the point. He's never been known exactly for subtlety. He gestures down to her bread, ignoring shaggy hair that falls into his face for some moments before he lifts a hand to sweep it back. Only, of course, for it to fall right back into place.]
"I do not intend to eat much of your food. Your kindness in assistance has been more than enough." [Already he feels indebted, which is a surprisingly human emotion for him to experience. It's not one he's comfortable feeling either. A shame he can't just turn that off.] "I suppose then, that simply leaves me with your company. Until you have need to away."
He's gonna go all ruffle all the time now. Makin' a fashion statement.
He's oblivious to her watching him. Or tries to be. The truth is, he can feel eyes on him. They don't necessarily have to be hers. He's almost certain that no matter where he goes, he's got unwanted attention. Usually from the Moonknights who are just waiting for him to slip up, so they have a reason to throw him in the cells for an undetermined amount of time. And as fun as that sounds, Caim understands he has to, for once, play by the rules that aren't set by him. It's kind of like having a bunch of Verdelets in his ear, reminding him of what his priorities need to be. The more things change, the more they stay the same, hmm?
When he's satisfied, he sets his device down, though leaves it on. He still needs it, after all. Although perhaps one day he won't need it at all. He wonders what kind of consequences would come from him ever seeing the return of his voice. Death, perhaps. Would he rather have [nigh] invincibility, or his voice at the price of his life? That's a hard question to answer now that he's not in the face of certain peril.]
"I take that to mean you would rather me to pay less attention to foreign machines and more to you." [It's not even an accusation. It's more like an observation in the only way Caim knows how to give one—straight and to the point. He's never been known exactly for subtlety. He gestures down to her bread, ignoring shaggy hair that falls into his face for some moments before he lifts a hand to sweep it back. Only, of course, for it to fall right back into place.]
"I do not intend to eat much of your food. Your kindness in assistance has been more than enough." [Already he feels indebted, which is a surprisingly human emotion for him to experience. It's not one he's comfortable feeling either. A shame he can't just turn that off.] "I suppose then, that simply leaves me with your company. Until you have need to away."