Compliments are strange beasts. It's not that Kell never got any. He had. In no small numbers. The real issue was few of those were serious. Of those that were, even fewer were in good faith. Back home, he couldn't exactly afford a wild night out in town. He was too recognizable. Comes with being one of a kind. Weapon of the crown can't really be careless with his dalliances. Kell could never be fully sure if he wasn't just a means to an end in some noble's scheme, or worse, an achievement to brag about.

'You're not that handsome' said Rhy when he caught Kell staring in the mirror too long. A tease, all in good spirit. But Kell would lie if he tried to pretend it didn't sting. So that was that too.

"Competi.... no! No, no, not that kind of friend! He's very much taken! And happily so! I wish them all the best. They're a good team."

If there's a tiny hint of jealousy leaking through his tone, he can't help it. Kell knows that what they have is something he will never get. With him, it's always more complicated.

But maybe... maybe it doesn't have to be. It's late, he's tired, and there's more alcohol in his blood than there were in the last six months combined, so he doesn't care. He can smile at the handsome man that's being nice to him. There's no one here to stop him. No one to berate him for not being careful. No one to tell him to think of the consequences. He can just smile. So he does.

"There is no competition to be worried about here."