Ah, I see what's going on here. This politics thing again.
I had dealt with it with the Ogre princess in Fairylynch, and also with Renard in the Higher Realm: it's a bit unsightly, but pretty necessary in many context.
The song and dance was familiar—the careful dance of words, the veiled threats, the implication that I was being given a chance to prove myself before they took more drastic measures.
I think I know what to do. I've been getting the hang of things over time.
"Mr. Armstrong—"
"Just Armstrong, please." He smiled and interrupted my formality, his expression softening slightly. "I prefer informality. It makes the interrogations feel... less hostile."
His smile widened just a fraction, and I could see the glint of humor in his eyes. He was testing me, probing to see how I would react to his casual invitation.
"Right. Mr. Armstrong, I am on a journey to the other side of the continent; Goliathens. I have diplomatic duties there, but it isn't urgent."
