[Hiding behind an iron maiden... it's almost too literal. There's no way she doesn't hear Eric enter the room, running on legs enhanced by whatever it is the Stewards are doing to them all is fast but by no means quiet. Still, he stumbles to a halt and crosses the room at a more normal pace. If it means she has time to compose herself, that's for the best.]
Krone?
[All he can think to ask is her name, and he hates himself for that, hates that he doesn't know what else to say, or where to start. He should know, now, but he doesn't.]
no subject
Krone?
[All he can think to ask is her name, and he hates himself for that, hates that he doesn't know what else to say, or where to start. He should know, now, but he doesn't.]