Kiran took the cart immediately, following Fjorm to the room with both swiftness and silence. He, too, was quite unable to remove his eyes from the princess’... well, his friends would’ve called it ‘Dat ass’, but he preferred the term ‘Pristine thiccness’.<br/><br/>He shook his head at her apologies. “Ah, no problem, no problem...” He removed some provisions from his pack and placed them directly in the open palm of this ‘Haru’ character. He chuckled as he did so, then turned back to Fjorm.<br/><br/>“Ah, Forgive my childish nature. It’s easy to lose oneself in a War, so I’m definitely not the same guy you knew back then. Sure, I act a tough game, and I could probably live up to that game, if I wanted. But in truth-” He paused, looking Haru over, trying to analyze wether he was a threat or not, then turned back, satisfied that his secret was safe.<br/><br/>“-In truth, I was a farmboy before all of this. Only reason I was dressed like this is because Anna caught me in the middle of Roleplaying... and not even with other people! Even this robe was my Father’s, from the Great War. That’s kinda the only reason I’m staying here... to keep him from getting mad at me. That and... well, where would you rather be? On a farm, milking Slime Girls and tending to very angry Centaurs, or in a beautiful world, living in a palace, with a beautiful princess, where everybody thinks you’re some kinda Legendary Hero? I’ve already made my choice about that.”<br/><br/>He sighed, then smiled. “Well. I think I’ve bored you for long enough with my tales of woe and sadness. Shall we eat? I’m curious as to just<i>how</i>good a cook you are, M’Lady!” He walked to Fjorm’s chair and pulled it out for her, a common courtesy where he came from, even if it was just your sister, or even your mother.