Alaras gently ducked away from the touch, his senses already wanting to betray him, making it seem like a ghost from the past was there beside him, helping him to after a bout of clumsiness. He was being punished, he was certain. Maes was coming to haunt him, for standing by and doing nothing when his child was in the hands of the very man who had betrayed him. The situation could not have been a coincidence, and he doubted this was the worst of it he was to face. After all, he hadn't even met Sovele yet.<br/><br/>He went along with Basren, still floundering and trying to find another other topic of conversation besides the statue. Something to distract him from the boy who he'd had no intention of ever meeting. Alaras didn't think that there would be anything recognizable left after Sovele had gotten hold of the boy. It was well known Sovele spoiled the unofficial child needlessly, and that may well be true, but Basren wasn't what he'd pictured.<br/><br/>He known straight away who'd commissioned the piece.<br/><br/>“It wasn't you.”<br/><br/>He was a coward, even now thinking of anything in his power he could do to not have to face any of this, despite all their efforts in making it possible. He took the tea cup without looking to Basren, slightly hunched, looking quite lost, but allowing him the moment of misery because Basren already thought he was unwell. He sipped the tea, focusing on it's unfamiliar, and sweet flavor. Far from the bitter root they steeped to mask the flavor of putrid water.<br/><br/>“Yes, thank you.” He wasn't feeling better, not really, but he'd been able to get a handle on himself, at the very least. “That would do me some good, I think.” He could distract himself by finding all the things in the garden he might be able to tamper with enough to kill the immortal bastard himself. It would be fitting, even if it was only something to fantasize about. Alaras set the delicate little cup down carefully, worried he would crack it if he had had to carry it around much longer. He'd taken a few sips, but the rest remained. They could add finicky to the Langlais boys list of character traits.<br/><br/>“The garden I kept at my parents estate was always a mess for me to come home to, between my studies. This looks well tended and cared for,” Alaras commented, taking to the gravel path, leading away from the direction they had come. More than well tended, really. It was paradise to those from outside the city walls, so decadent that one could hardly stomach it.<br/><br/>“Admittedly, I'm not familiar with some of the things I see grown here,” he spoke, and that was something he was genuinely curious about. What was the purpose to some of these? For the elite, did there need to be? In the pocket of his jacket, he removed a little notepad, worn, with a handful of illustrations and notes. His newest one, kept free of anything incriminating. All the information he could gather had the possibility of being twisted, and used to their benefit. He would be thorough, if anything.<br/><br/>He had to wonder why Basren was the one meeting him, and why someone else hadn't been sent. That raised an alarming amount of questions besides the simple answer of a shared fascination.<br/><br/>“I am surprised you are the first to welcome me to court,” Alaras spoke, his words soft. From what information he did know, Sovele kept a tight leash on Basren, which made him worry all the more because this meeting was a contradiction to what he knew.