Oh, this one was cheeky, and he had no reservations about it. But if his confidence was any testament to his bite (as only a fool would claim in falsehood), maybe Thalen hadn’t given the mer credit enough?
He also didn’t recoil as most did at Hecerion’s threats, which spoke a great deal. Hecerion hadn’t been joking, however. He could name numerous uses for a severed hand off the top of his head—most of them culinary—and he would take off the offending digits without a moment’s hesitation. I had come here for a meal, after all…
The fact that the mer had taken the risk to extend the same offensive handtwice demonstrated his courage.
I could use someone like him…why was he turned away?
”Succinct…but at least I have a name,” Hecerion replied curtly, “My guard spoke of you in, more or less, a loaded handful of words.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“I’m…keen to think he was too quick to judge,” he rose his eyebrows, “Not an uncommon mistake, but I’m approached by a fair few, and there’s a necessity to…cut the fat, as it were.”
”Nemurah…” he tested the name, “…kind on the lips, but not too sweet.”
He ran a tongue over her teeth, looking the Bosmer over.
That he revels in the sound of his own voice. Can’t say that’s surprising.
Finding the lack of returned grace, distasteful; he clenched his hand and rapped it twice in the empty air. Gaze cast off, his hand lowered gently back to rest upon his belt.
Fancy words were all very well and good but finding no returned gesture set the boundary. No doubt Hecerion acted with this supremacy to distance himself he thought. A ‘stuck-up’ standard as it were, chief in Altmeri custom. To Nemurah’s own mind, this social hierarchy was ever tiresome.
Despite feeling a little bitter, his smile remained fixed; if only now appearing a little pained. As if to add to the play of awkwardness, a sharp breath drew in past his teeth. “Mm, I can be sweet if that’s what you’d prefer.” He pushed from the banister and stood a little straighter. “What good’s hiring some ignoramus, when you could have a little more excitement.”
“I mean aside from your guardsman of course. An exception who was surprisingly flavoursome…in spoken word of course!” He blustered out. Apparently unaware of Hecerion’s cold exterior; he continued to talk as if they were more than mutual. “I do the mundane, and not quite so. A general fee would suffice.” He shrugged. “Contradictory, I can be just that simple.”