🚨| "Yes, yes. I look ridiculous. I know it. Of all the outfits... " He sighs deeply. Dressing in fancy garb has always made him incredibly self-conscious. Only a select few know of it (Hector being one of the privileged few), since he's good at faking confidence in court. "Anyway, I heard there's a prize for completing this." He shows his card to Hector with a grin. His competitive streak is also one of the things that a few are privy to. "Sign mine? I'll also sign yours."
Spotting his favourite redhead amid the crowd had come alongside a wave of relief, and Hector had immediately made a beeline for his fellow Marquess-in-arms. This time, it had been the Ostian who greeted the Pheraen with a clap on the back, but the second Eliwood opened his mouth…
In a bid to keep from deflating, Hector instead puffs himself up, lightly tapping his friend’s shoulder with a curled first. “Fie! Fie on your misgivings, Eliwood. You look dashing as ever, no, even more so! Enough to make many a maiden swoon - and this, I know, because I’ve witnessed the proof with my own two eyes.”
The Ostian lord was perhaps oblivious to any affections hazarded in his own direction, but when it came to pairs of eyes pinned on his friends… He does not fancy himself blind.
“Besides, you’re not alone when it comes to feeling askew, you know?” He is, of course, referring to himself and the mild discomfort he feels in this fancier garb… and to Lyndis as well. (She, he did not fail to notice, had attracted her own fair share of stares, as well.)
With a grin to match Eliwood’s, he fishes up his own card and exchanges them. One signature, and one Ostian crest from his signet ring, coming right up. Affecting formality, he bows, then rises with a flourish with the intent to return his friend’s card to him - then thinks better of it, holding it close.
“Hm. You’re missing a few, old chap. If your card were, say, not to get returned… I’d be the winner by default.”
