Finally he began, if only a bit, to accept it when they said they were not angry, they were merely-- curious. The Yludih purposefully relaxed his shoulders, which had been knit up in his tension, and breathed out a breath he had been long holding.
"Thank you," he murmured to Faith, wincing at the tightness of the bind as she wound it and then wound it even tighter, but the tighter the better, regardless of the pain. He hadn't known she knew doctoring. She seemed to know a lot of things.
"Yes," he said then, when Tristan asked for his name. Because he knew it was probably confusing for them all. How many identities had been revealed tonight? Three? "Call me Quio." The questions the noble asked should have been just as simple to answer, but none of this was easy for him to explain out loud, not after it had been trained into him to never let anyone outside of the family hold such a truth. Thankfully, Elyna seemed to know a bit more, and answered for him, at least partially.
He nodded his head when she asked if he could change his appearance, allowing her to go on before speaking.
"We do... we can have many faces, many forms," he eventually said in a low voice. He glanced at the door as if someone might walk by and overhear; had he heard something or was he simply paranoid, not wanting to talk about this? Forcing his eyes back to the group, he pressed on. "Though I don't know where it started... if people distrusted us because we deserved it, because we were untrustworthy?" He shook his head. The Yludih had always been able to shift forms, so was there something inherently dishonest in that? "Or if we became untrustworthy, and untrusting, due to others' fear and bias."
That was the big question as far as he was concerned, a chicken-and-egg caliber inquiry. Something he had wondered at even as a child. In its simplest form: Did being Yludih make him a bad person? He had never tried to be, or at least he didn't think he had been worse than anyone else. Until recently.
What had happened on the ship-- had that happened because he was Yludih? Because he was open to-- to being changed, altered, so easily?
That was probably it, he thought bitterly, but tried to school himself back into a semblance of stoicism.
"My hand will be fine, thanks to Faith," he said at last, and plastered on a small apologetic smile. "I'm sorry for bothering you all. Thank you for--" Not hating me? For not attacking me? He faltered there. "--for understanding." He no longer had a glass, he had smashed his, and he could not fathom at this moment retreating back to the ballroom and celebrating as the Lady Burhan had suggested.
"To the removal of masks," he still repeated anyways, as if completing Elyna's toast, "It would have been a little too on the nose had this been a masquerade, yes?" He tried to smile again, but wasted no time standing, separating himself from the three of them. At least his legs were no longer shaking, and the wound was covered so he didn't feel as faint. He would be okay. "Actually, um, if you'll excuse me? I still think I should go. I'm not... good... at parties." As they had all clearly seen. He was planning on finding some quiet place to wait until Hart either found him or it was time to leave.
"Thank you," he murmured to Faith, wincing at the tightness of the bind as she wound it and then wound it even tighter, but the tighter the better, regardless of the pain. He hadn't known she knew doctoring. She seemed to know a lot of things.
"Yes," he said then, when Tristan asked for his name. Because he knew it was probably confusing for them all. How many identities had been revealed tonight? Three? "Call me Quio." The questions the noble asked should have been just as simple to answer, but none of this was easy for him to explain out loud, not after it had been trained into him to never let anyone outside of the family hold such a truth. Thankfully, Elyna seemed to know a bit more, and answered for him, at least partially.
He nodded his head when she asked if he could change his appearance, allowing her to go on before speaking.
"We do... we can have many faces, many forms," he eventually said in a low voice. He glanced at the door as if someone might walk by and overhear; had he heard something or was he simply paranoid, not wanting to talk about this? Forcing his eyes back to the group, he pressed on. "Though I don't know where it started... if people distrusted us because we deserved it, because we were untrustworthy?" He shook his head. The Yludih had always been able to shift forms, so was there something inherently dishonest in that? "Or if we became untrustworthy, and untrusting, due to others' fear and bias."
That was the big question as far as he was concerned, a chicken-and-egg caliber inquiry. Something he had wondered at even as a child. In its simplest form: Did being Yludih make him a bad person? He had never tried to be, or at least he didn't think he had been worse than anyone else. Until recently.
What had happened on the ship-- had that happened because he was Yludih? Because he was open to-- to being changed, altered, so easily?
That was probably it, he thought bitterly, but tried to school himself back into a semblance of stoicism.
"My hand will be fine, thanks to Faith," he said at last, and plastered on a small apologetic smile. "I'm sorry for bothering you all. Thank you for--" Not hating me? For not attacking me? He faltered there. "--for understanding." He no longer had a glass, he had smashed his, and he could not fathom at this moment retreating back to the ballroom and celebrating as the Lady Burhan had suggested.
"To the removal of masks," he still repeated anyways, as if completing Elyna's toast, "It would have been a little too on the nose had this been a masquerade, yes?" He tried to smile again, but wasted no time standing, separating himself from the three of them. At least his legs were no longer shaking, and the wound was covered so he didn't feel as faint. He would be okay. "Actually, um, if you'll excuse me? I still think I should go. I'm not... good... at parties." As they had all clearly seen. He was planning on finding some quiet place to wait until Hart either found him or it was time to leave.
"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"
"Speaking in Ulehi"
"Speaking in Common"
"Speaking in Ulehi"
