Alaras thought he had misunderstood him, then, when he denied that it was a suitor at all. Basren seemed to pause, considering, and Alaras would come to understand why that was. He seemed to choose his words carefully, but it was enough for Alaras to finish putting the broken pieces together. The color drained from his face all together.<br/><br/>“You and..” his voice trailed off. Basren had already said it upset the queen, and he didn't want to repeat too much what Basren had just as much as confirmed for him. He was grinding his teeth in an attempt to hide his anger. Of course, the bastard would have taken Maes' child, and then seen to it that he ended up in his bed. He wanted to be angry at Basren as well, but how could he? He'd been so very young when he'd been taken, and likely that was his saving grace. If he'd been of any sort of comprehending age, no doubt Sovele would have done him it. Still, he found it difficult to imagine Basren going to the very man who'd so savagely killed his father.<br/><br/>He had half a mind to shake Basren, to tell him more about his father. To tell him how wrong it was that he was so<i>close</i>to the King. To inform Basren he wasn't low content at all, not really. Alaras had known his mother, and while they weren't anything like the children Anis had birthed, he still had a fair amount of potential. Alaras had to wonder if Sovele simply didn't know for certain, or if there had been reason to believe he was low content. Another likelihood was that Sovele was simply trying to keep things from the boy.<br/><br/>“Yet he approves of this?” Alaras questioned, his brows furrowing together. He wasn't sure that made any sense, or if he was being set up somehow. He was going to have to be weary. Basren seemed dangerous to get involved with, especially if he was close to the King.<br/><br/>He was a bit frigid afterwords, less friendly than he'd been before he had learned of the relationship between Basren and the King. It was a lot to process for one night, and Alaras was tired of putting on an act when he wanted to throw things off the balcony. His patience had been saturated, used up, and he didn't think he could learn one more unsavory thing that night without his facade cracking right down the middle.<br/><br/>“I think I'm going to retire for the evening,” he decided, not making any excuses, but he thanked the queen for her hospitality before leaving. She turned a glaring expression Basren's way once he'd gone.<br/><br/>“What did you say?” she demanded, “This is your best chance, and you know it. You'd best<i>try harder</i>to impress him.”