A small, stiff bow answers this backhanded praise. Keeping Rolant's company - He was hungry back then. In a very literal sense, he was hungry - Donna had sent him money here and there, and he'd charmed a few of his Orlesian aunts into supporting him now and again, but the tantes' patience had been limited, and Donna could only do so much. Rolant's patronage had kept him alive in a very real sense. Even if it had meant just getting him into parties to fill his pockets with amuses bouches - It had kept him alive.

But he must wonder, truly: was it worth it? To associate with a dog like that had besmirched his honor. At the time, he'd thought he had none, which was why he'd been so reckless about the company he kept, but he can recognize it now. Would it not be better to have perished? Even in a foreign land, surrounded by strangers and enemies -

Stop thinking about yourself, idiot. Lexie is there, and her pain is far more important than his petty self-pitying nonsense.

"What a pleasure to see you again." By smiles, broad and a bit foolish, his posture adjusting quite unconsciously to adopt a rather fey slouch. His only defense now, just when he was a child: make a target of himself. "How handsome you're looking, Rolant."