"That is all that matters," Arenor said, in response to Nikolas' assurance regarding Alain. It wasn't quite a vow, but he sensed the good and gentle intent in the nobleman and Lady Violet toward his wayward child. For the first time, the tightness in his chest eased when he thought of the child's fate. Even if some malcontent were to kill Arenor, Alain had these newfound protectors and friends to care for him, to act as surrogate family if need be. The sorcerer had long since ceased to fear death -- for his own sake, at least, yet fatherhood, he had found, dampened his apathy and fatalistic thoughts. He lived for the child who traipsed a few paces ahead, who stumbled in his fine boots and clung to the little girl, laughed with the boy.<br/><br/>With his eyes on the children, he hadn't noticed Nikokas' hesitation. Yet as the group strode through cavern-like halls with gilded light pouring onto the marble, as they passed ivory statues and posted guards nearly as inanimate, as they ascended what seemed to Arenor never-ending stairs, he found himself glancing at his companion once more. The man strode with quiet confidence. Only a day ago Arenor had thought him as outlandish as the exotic gardens, but that Arenor in dusty traveler's leathers and a grim scowl had since been replaced with an (equally grim, he would have to admit) prince clothed like a dark firestorm. He couldn't begrudge Niko his violet clothes. After all, they looked good on him.<br/><br/>He refocused his attention on the children and Violet with a wry-half smile. Later, when he had the luxury of time for reflection, he would need to decide what to do with this…attraction, such as it seemed to be. It would be easiest, perhaps best, to suppress it. He paused as the group reached their destination and stood back rather than crowd Nikolas.  Even Alain edged a little closer to the nobleman, though Arenor caught the telltale signs of uncertainty from his child, the wrinkled brow and stooped shoulders, but at least the boy no longer scowled at Nikolas like one would at a potential enemy.<br/><br/>In fact, Alain /wanted/ to like Nikolas. This man seemed kind and affectionate as he knelt and gathered Alain's new friends into his arms. He offered smiles and kisses, and the youth found nothing amiss in the man's gentle words today. Even so, he couldn't quite forget the very different scene the previous evening, which his exhausted young mind had exaggerated further. Alain stood awkward in his finery and felt like a sham or a servant, or maybe even one of the statues. He glared down at his tunic and felt a tightness in his chest, which he didn't know for jealousy. He tapped his foot here and there on the stone and waited for the nobleman to stop hugging everyone but him and leave.<br/><br/>Instead, Nikolas turned to him and offered a bow. Alain almost stumbled back at the gesture -- he stopped mid-step and straightened his stooped posture a little, but could only gaze with widened eyes at a grown man deferring to him, one who had spoken so coldly last night and kindly to these other children today. He swallowed hard and cast about for something to say. "Ah -- thank you, Lord Nikolas," he managed, the same thing his father called him. He bit his lip and a last hasty bit rushed out. "Ponies are something like horses, right?"<br/><br/>Arenor edged away from this interaction to approach Lady Violet. "May I speak with you for a moment?" He led her two paces away from her ladies for privacy and murmured to her, lest the children hear. "You may not find Alain easy to understand. He is not like these innocents here," and he flicked a glance to Lana and Lucas. "Perhaps one day he will be. Until then, if you have a…question about him, something you do not understand, please come to me first and I will explain."<br/><br/>The prince held her gaze the entire time, and he tried not to look grim, though he felt quite serious. For the most part it was Alain's hidden gender that concerned him. Hopefully, Lady Violet would remember these words should she come to know about it. "You have my gratitude," he finished, and with a deep nod to her, he rejoined the little group long enough to offer his child a quick, rough hug and a considered look. Then he followed Nikolas without another glance back at the schoolroom.<br/><br/>Arenor strode through the corridor abreast with Nikolas. His own hands slid into fists at his sides as he walked, as he thought about the day ahead. Meeting court sycophants and gossips did not exactly thrill him. No doubt they would seize on and twist his words. Just as his lips had twisted in a scowl and his mind raced for solutions that he did not really possess, Nikolas began to speak and in a similar vein. Arenor gazed out the window as he took in the words -- part of him longed very much to seek out his beast and depart this palace into the wilds beyond, but he knew he could not.<br/><br/>"I see," he said, his voice a bit tight. "If I am not to speak to them, am I to understand you will answer in my place for today? You had better tell me what they are likely to ask, if that is so." He would allow Nikolas to filter his words, but he didn't look too kindly on the nobleman making up answers for him. The rest of the instructions, he listened to with an absent nod and occasional lingering glance at his companion. "I will endeavor to learn what I must as quickly as I am able --" and then his lips quirked. "I would not call myself graceless, but dancing is not among my talents." Aside from the Tribe fire dances, but he saw no cause to mention those. "Perhaps you could teach me that as well."