If Henrik was bothered by the way the nobles here conducted himself, it doesn't show. Ever calm as the eye of a storm, no matter what turbulence might surround him, he met gazes with indifference.  Fops. Most of them were likely to be useless, petty schemers; unlike in Aserit, where the nobles were at least a bit more honest, and could usually hold their own in a fight.<br/><br/>He would advance along with his family, his eyes catching that of the fool's as she puts on a show. Their is the slightest tinge of movement at the corners of his lips, as if he might smile, but stopped himself. A fool; how curious.<br/><br/>The fool was wise to fear Henrik. Young as he is, he's one of his nations' best generals; in a nation that is known not just for the power of its army, but its ability to effectively utilize it through strategem. War was the highest form of art, some might say, in Aserit.<br/><br/>Seeing full well that the fool was infuriating his little sister, he would reach out to gingerly brush her shoulder, as if removing some small bit of dust or debris. In actuality, it was just to disrupt her train of thought, and thus, try to get her mind off of what she was feeling.<br/><br/>Wordlessly, he would follow after the fool. The entire time, she may note, his attention seemed more focused on her than anyone else. However, it's not because he's captivated by her performance... though, many might see it that way.