A single snort of laughter sprang from Regan as she sat up, looking over at Astor with a sparkle in her eye.

“You’re pretty strong for a Lorendaler,” She teased as she picked herself up, “Normally I don’t go down that easy.” If Astor didn’t get up himself, Regan would offer him a hand to pull him to his feet.

Regan was practically beaming. She was like a hungry scavenger, eagerly snapping up the attention—even if her cheeks still burned just a little bit pink.

“Yeah, sure,” She shrugged before recorking the flask, “But I don’t know if you’ll want to be so forgiving when you see combat.” Regan cocked her head to the side, offering him the water as she looked at him.

“So, how long you been doing the whole soldiering thing?” Regan couldn’t really take a guess at his age. He seemed young, younger than her anyway, but it was hard to tell.

Regan’s cheeks darkened, turning a little pinker than before.

“Oh, I, uh,” She shrugged, grinning right back, “I practice a lot. I just…like fighting, I guess. Makes things go quiet.” Regan was no master of language and was therefore tripping over her own words, trying to capture the idea that sat just out of reach.

Particularly when her conversation partner had a nice smile like that.

Regan’s brow furrowed. Didn’t like fighting? Seemed an odd choice of profession then. It was clear that he hadn’t a choice in the matter, and for that Regan pitied him. Despite the other injustices the world had thrust upon her, she had never doubted she was meant to be anything other than a soldier, just as fish knew they were to swim and birds to fly. She thought to ask more questions, to push on the matter, but quickly Astor changed direction and she let him.

“Paired people?” Regan teased with a raised eyebrow, “I used to be. But I’m a Royal Guard now. That’s why…well…” Regan waved a vague hand, “I’m here.”

Regan snorted involuntarily with laughter. Astor was technically correct—it was a promotion—but the way she’d gotten it was what had a grin cracking across her face. Taking a very public swipe at the king wasn’t the way one normally rose through the ranks. Things had a strange way of working out as you least expected them to, Regan was starting to realize. For better, worse, or indifferent, she had yet to decide.

“Yeah, I guess,” Regan shrugged, “Just different mostly. Like being a very attentive stalker. Not that I—you know. It’s just—“ Regan stumbled for a moment, “Just having a person as a job rather than a job as a job.”

Regan shrugged, looking bashfully at the ground again. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” She mumbled, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, “You just get used to it, is all.” She looked up at Astor, unsure really where to go next. So, she went back to the old standby. Training.

“Hey, I uh, can teach you that move if you want.”