It took her a moment, but eventually, Regan spotted Isaac out of the corner of her eye and managed a subdued double-take before facing her gaze forward again. Predictably her cheeks blushed, a reaction as involuntary as one blinking when the sun was in their eyes. Isaac was handsome, mysterious, and (relatively) mature in his years—and Regan was therefore flustered. She was quiet for a moment before speaking.

“Sorry I, uh, got weird before,” Regan mumbled, “It’s not you. Just…yeah.” She continued to plod along, swallowing.

The voice. Regan was a simple, malleable critter, and the warmth of his tone sent a happy shiver down her spine. Whatever wariness she had about outsiders, men of Coheed in particular, crashed on conflict against the flush of her cheeks and the now frequent glances in his direction.

“Yeah. I’m good,” Regan sighed, “I just…you know, this isn’t just a job. It’s personal, it kind of has to be, I guess. And when it’s personal things get, uh, complicated. And Alys and I…yeah, anyway, it’s complicated.”

“I’m sure she was,” Regan grumbled sarcastically. Her eyes widened a little as she realized that was probably taking things a step too far. She coughed awkwardly, cheeks turning a little redder as she changed the subject.

“So,” Regan said with a touch of forced brightness, “Cambria, eh? Have you been? I know they come to Coheed to get, uh…taken care of.” Another awkward throat clearing. “But I don’t know if you all do it the other way ‘round. Not do it like that but with the, uh, traveling bit.”

“A cat fight?” Regan spluttered in embarrassment as she scowled at Isaac, “I’m perfectly capable of…listen here—” She took a deep breath, brows so knitted with indignation it looked like they were about to fold in on themselves, “The king is my priority, same as yours. Alys can do what she pleases. She’s not my concern.” Regan would grumble, quiet for a few huffy moments before she turned to whatever it was Isaac had said next.

“Why didn’t you?” Regan asked with simple curiosity, looking at Issac with her head cocked slightly to the side.

Regan grumbled indistinctly, though with the hint of a smile on her blushing face. He wasn’t wrong. She wasn’t exactly the picture of partnership and goodwill, but Regan wasn’t the type to put a good face on something, largely due to the fact she’d never been good at deception. What you saw was what you got, even if it was rough around the edges.

At the mention of wives and children, Regan’s brow furrowed in genuine concern. “And you don’t know what happened to them?” It was a statement, posed as a question

Given her circumstances, as a child Regan had been made to contend with many harsh realities in life—but arranged marriage was not one of them, and in that moment she was grateful. She supposed Isaac’s wives would have been grateful too to be married to a man who, so far as Regan could tell, wasn’t the kind to raise his hand or treat a woman harshly. No, Regan knew rough hands when she saw them and his…

Regan swallowed and turned her eyes forward, blushing.

“Would you make the same choice again?” Regan asked with blunt, genuine curiosity, “Knowing what you know now?”