Wilhelm needed no convincing to dress humbly. Deflecting attention has become one of the primary goals lodged in his subconscious, a natural result of growing up in the public eye. A natural result, at least, for someone who has never worn his title comfortably or borne scrutiny gracefully.

Another good thing he can say about this place is that maintaining a low profile is a lot easier when your face isn't instantly recognizable to everyone who's ever even glanced at the news. Sure, the native Thorneans hold a keener interest in the Summoned than Wilhelm would like, but he's just one of many, and too new to have any reputation attached to his name.

That's nice too, holding a blank page in his hands, with some power over the story it becomes. A clean start. Well, except for a few singe marks...

The gentle reprimand — if it can even be called that, when half of what comes out of Rhy's mouth is vaguely flirtation-shaped — gets a chuckle out of him.

"Exactly. That's why I'm asking before our drinks get here."

While he doesn't back out of their sudden proximity, he does spend a little too much energy trying not to be captivated by those unusual golden eyes. His finger traces idle patterns in the grain of the tabletop.