When he had attended her wounds and cuts, with every wince, he realised the girl was in much more pain as she let on. But her question about him both surprised him as well as made him think. He held his gaze into her eyes, and his eyes almost smiled. Now the princess was clean and taken care of as best as he could, he could see even better what a pretty girl she was. But he couldn't tell her about his life. Even though he had talked to her father every now and then, about problems in the city, even the King had no idea about the full extent of his position. He had been named the King of the underworld, on many an occasion.<br/><br/>'Me'thinks ye'r mistaken a little, girl. Ye'r father ne'er talked about ye. I, like others, know only of ye as t'princess. We all seen t'announc'ment, all t'years ago. But that ends m'knowledge. You and t'prince are shelt'red from us. But when t'word came of yer kidnap, we din't hesitate. Yer t'princess. And s'for me? I just do stuff. LIttle things. Nothing special. I live alone, keep t'myself. I help others get by'. It was all true what he said, but he left a lot out. He didn't know anything about the education of the princess, how much her father would have told her about how the city worked and who who was. He wasn't nobility, but certainly someone with a lot of influence on life at the underground of society.<br/><br/>Looking at the girl, seeing in her eyes in how much pain she was, he was desperate to hold her. To try to reassure her. To tell her she would heal with time. 'Can I hold'ye, girl? Just holding ye?'