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Klin slowly exhaled, opened his eyes, got up from the floor, and with a polite (but not as polite as he would be towards a princess) bow, greeted the unceremonious guest:
—I see you've come to your senses, that's good. Don't worry, you are perfectly safe here, and your health and belongings—his gaze slid first to the knife, then to the human skull—are in no danger.
For a few brief moments, he subconsciously assessed the newcomer. His philosopher friends boasted about their ability to wrap the obvious in a veil of mystery; here, he needed to do the opposite: explain the complex in simple terms.
—My name is Klin, and I am a servant in the service of Her Imperial Highness, Princess Naria Es Diesra Arual. I believe your current situation requires immediate explanation, and if you are willing to listen, I will gladly provide it to you, Sir...?
Garrett silently looked at the man who called himself Klin. He understood little from his pompous introduction and tried to grasp something he could assess. A servant? So, a lackey. That's quite plausible. But the rest... at least strange. He hadn't heard of such a princess in Lungwort, or anywhere else. Of course, it's possible that he simply forgot—he wouldn't have kept such a complicated name in his head anyway. And yet, if he had heard it before, some vague echo would probably have surfaced in his memory. Perhaps he was a newcomer from distant lands, where such a person could well exist?
The silence stretched on. In any case, he should first listen to what he had to say about the "current situation," and then something would definitely become clear.
Garrett was in no hurry to introduce himself, perfectly remembering that not long ago, he and his brother had practically written a dossier on themselves just to gain unhindered access to Lungwort.
—Let's hear your explanation first.
Граф Орлов