Dark eyes focused on Madeleine, on her handkerchief, strangely relieved when Lilanee echoed his words. He would have smiled had it been appropriate, but there was just too much awkward surprise going on and Ezre was simply mediating it all, his etherial, lightweight Clairvoyant field the only thing that seemed to be keeping the dark-haired boy floating smoothly, even expression belying the tumultuous emotions meticulously hidden within.
"The Incumbent and I have met before, zjai. Also, he is an acquaintance of a Diplomat from my homeland. I am a sheltered temple boy from Kzecka, but sometimes, I have a surprise or two." There. Just a hint of humor. The black pools of his eyes shined with amusement and the hint of a smile passed over his tattooed lips. Brief and bright.
He said peer because he didn't know what else to say. It soured on his tongue. It had been the wrong word. The wrong choice.
What was he supposed to call her? His girlfriend? Here? Now? After almost an entire season apart? Did she even feel the same now? Did she miss him as he'd missed her? Did she—
Her hand moved toward Tom as if to shake his and she breathed her judgements with her praises. Had Ezre been the type to emote in public view, he would have winced, but instead his lips formed a thin line of thought when she repeated the word peer. It stung. He had hurt her again.
"Ultimately, everything has something to do with the Cycle, willingly or not." He murmured like some forgotten prophet, shifting on his feet to begin to flip through some of the notes, inked fingers tracing over some of the words and skimming down pages, sweat tickling down the back of his neck, beneath the wide collar of his linen layers in the Roalis sun.
The thought of first seeking out a passive seemed odd to the Hoxian, but, then again, never before had he been around so many of them here on Brunnhold's campus. Magicless births were so rare in his homeland, and while a few galdori chose to keep their passive children home, those that did end up in Frecksat were, for the most part, kept from public view. He knew they existed, he knew they served their galdori peers, but they were better praised quietly and out of sight.
Anaxas was a completely different kingdom.
He looked to Madeleine in her almost overwhelming flood of emotions, watching the girl nod. He felt them all. He read them all on her face as if he was scrying in a bowl of water: clear and direct.
He smirked at Tom, finding it very difficult to call the raen Incumbent Vauquelin because that was simply not who he truly knew him as. He felt the hint of betrayal in each of the skillful impressions that the man put on.
They were walking—
Ezre's steps purposeful, still attempting to process everything, notes still open in his hands. Lilanee was talking, but an elbow nudged him, sharp and purposeful. The dark-haired boy's eyes snapped up, over, narrowing for a moment before becoming wide, helpless, and obvious. What was he supposed to say? How could he say it?
G i r l f r i e n d.
He mouthed the word, slowly for emphasis, overly so, in a manner not unlike how Miss Gosselin had not-whispered her whisper previously. Blushing, he added out loud before looking away, "Perhaps not anymore, however."
The boy followed dutifully across campus, attempting to skim more notes, attempting to gather some semblance of focus on the task that he'd requested be investigated, after all. He couldn't help but notice the Poorman's Violets, the well-kept flowers, the cared for things. Passives were people, too. Even he knew that they had souls.
He hung back, however, not wanting to overwhelm a singular elderly man with the sheer weight of four fields, with the shocking surprise of three young students and a middle-aged galdor politician. Instead, he hovered in the shade of a trellis, well within earshot, watching and listening, hoping to make connections between whatever the old passive said and what others had said in passing, written already on the pages held in his hands.