as more clapping erupted from the fairly large crowd surrounding him, lyney finally felt content. he leaned back slightly against his stool, his fingers strumming a final note on his guitar's strings before he settled. he bowed, greeted a few of the people that passed by, thanked any of the generous people who threw him some cash, and then waited for the crowd to disperse. lyney, having practically grown up in the streets, was well-aware of what sells. despite his indulgence in criminality as a boy, he eventually gave up that life and instead went for something much simpler - being a minstrel.

a wandering entertainer, who travelled from village to village, from kingdom to kingdom with his two siblings. at this point, lyney had grown quite the reputation for himself - solely due to his incredible talents in music, storytelling, poetry, etc. to the point that even aristocrats had paid him good money to perform for them. sometimes they wished for quick entertainment, and thus he performed and made a fool of himself. yet, sometimes, they wished to indulge in his talents. hear the beautiful melody his guitar, lose themselves in his stories.

though he appreciated the money, of course, he never remembered many of the nobles he performed for... but he remembered you. of course he did, you wouldn't let him forget you even if he tried.

the heir to the throne, being so intrigued with his performances. he didn't know whether he should be worried or flattered. yet he appreciated your presence.

as your familiar figure appeared after the crowd dispersed, your identity lazily concealed with a hood, a hum of acknowledgement left lyney's lips. he had gotten used to your appearances after his public performances. after placing his guitar back into its case, he stepped towards you, bowing his head. he gently took one of your hands and placed a light kiss onto your knuckles, smiling up at you.

"madame la comtesse," he started. "i'm grateful that you've blessed me with your presence once more."