Black Morass kill me if i snitch, cause if you snitch i'm gon' kill you

A small smile graces the Roman's lips at her words and he inclines his head. "Many languages are more melodic than English," he says with a soft laugh, his tongue slipping out to lick his lips. It was true though. Trajan knows to speak a number of languages if only because his father loves languages and forces him to learn them since a young age. He grew to like them eventually. Knowing how to speak multiple tongues was a very useful skill, especially in diplomacy. After all, if you talk to someone in their language, it goes to their heart rather than their mind.
"Me llamo Romulus," Trajan introduces himself using his moniker, preferring not to use his birth name in front of strangers. It is a habit, a precaution learnt from his father. Most of the time, he doesn't really care, but occasionally, the habit comes back and forces his tongue to say another name. What's said is said, though, so the Roman doesn't bother to correct himself. "Lo siento, no hablo Nahuatl." He's not very good at Spanish, but speaks it well enough, just not as well as English.
"I was born here," the soldier tilts his head almost regretfully, "but I moved away when I was very young. English is..not my preferred tongue," he says honestly. It's not that it's not a very pretty language, but he just didn't really like using it. Perhaps it was out of habit. Perhaps it was because speaking English brought back memories he would rather not deal with.