Alessandra was actually smiling as they crested the rise and started down toward their ride. She had what appeared to be competent companions, for once. Vindariel was even older than she, if the rumors were true and with Al, what met the eye wasn’t even a patch on the man. She knew that much, at least. She was probably the least experienced of them, in absolute terms, and while she fervently hoped her Queen’s faith in her was not misplaced, Alessandra wasn’t particularly worried about embarrassing herself.

“Ahhh, verily we have reached the place of our departure!” Alessandra said, hamming up the accent and the flowery language just to see the look on Al’s face. “The sun shines, the birds chirp, the sea crashes on yonder shore. Truly, it is an auspicious begin-“ She stopped abruptly as her gaze fell on the man, tall and handsome in a rakish sort of way, with a rogueish grin and she knew he would carry at least one long blade. She knew him.

“Son of a bitch!” She snarled, loud enough for him to hear. She went on at some length in debased ancient Sperethiel, commenting on his antecedents, descendents, sexual preferences, and complimented him on the lovemaking skills of his mother, sisters, and daughters. She’d have expanded it to include the male members of his family, but her high Sperethiel was a little rusty, and the vernacular was more than slightly sexist. She was just starting in on the pecularities of his anatomy when she drew abreast of him and pointed. “You! What in all the myriad hells are you doing here?”