When the soldier was quick to bow and oblige her, Alinore was reminded of the best quality the military instilled in her charges: the willingness to obey their betters promptly and without question. This one even had some manners, though she had learned to lower her expectations when it came to such courtesies among the rabble.

Of course, it would be an honor to escort her.

“Thank you, soldier.” As he readjusted the box he was carrying and they set off, she inquired politely, “May I ask your name?”

Suitably respectful though he was, he had the air of commonality about him. Even in this part of the castle, respectable nobles carried with them a certain dignity that remained evident despite their military bearing. In truth, she cared little as to the identity and affairs of a commoner, but she, at least, would not stoop to their level of manners - or lack thereof - by walking in complete silence. So small talk it was. Years in court had taught her how to sound interested when she asked a follow up question, addressing him by name if he had introduced himself earlier: “How long have you been in the military, Mr. Mosse?”

Private Mosse. Seven years. As far as Alinore was concerned, the admission was but a drop of water in the ocean - a product of polite small talk rather than genuine interest - but Alinore was in the business of collecting information about people. So, while she hardly expected Mosse to rise through the military’s ranks with any speed if he had yet to receive a promotion after the better half of a decade, she filed it away accordingly. “A firm foundation for a successful career, I should hope.” The words were accompanied by a polite smile.

This particular soldier did not seem overly talkative, but she supposed that wasn’t entirely uncommon amongst men - and commoners at that - who wielded their sword the way she wielded words. “I heard about this morning’s tournament but was, regrettably, unable to attend. Were you one of the participants, Private Mosse?”