Falls of the Hinterlands You ask me what I’m thinking about

Patroclous would, in every way, publicly hold a high image of himself. He may not have seen himself as a king (or even worthy of his imaginary crowned majesty title) but he still thought he was...lofty. Born and raised in an empire. Expected to uphold a certain standard.

Yet here he found a comfortable place here in a low place. Settled in from the Grandmaster's heavy form and his rather plain bold words.

Patroclus was not blind to the comapny of men. It was not something that he had ever spoken of in a brazen way. Especially not back home. Here Kynareth seemed open for it all, though — and any hidden worries Patroclus might have had were washed away by the privacy of the waterfall. There was not likely to be prying eyes out here, to his knowledge.

If you truly wish to...you must promise something first, Hushed in tender tones. He did not yet pull away from the other man, but he was prepared to do so with taunting flare if his requirements could not be met.