( floating-dagger ) :
Noting the nervousness the other clearly had, Macbeth, without knowing so, tilted his head to the side. What could be on this man’s mind that would cause him to be so nervous and scared? Of course, if the King were talking about his own past, he may be acting the same. Er, recent past.
He payed close attention, only losing focus when told argot. What was that? And why would he know the French word for French slang if this was his first time in France? He nodded, to the other’s story and about the English word he was not sure of. He understood, of course, and it made sense that this man would be scared to seem lower once again, but did the English words he use really matter? Won’t the status he held shut the people up?
Finally, he spoke, “I see. I’m terribly sorry about thy past and what hath betid to thou, but dost thou really think the words show f’r thee and not the status thou hold ‘r the way thou act? Dost it not trouble thee a dram that what people think of thy status can change it?” And, most of all, “I’m sure thou shouldst worry more about the French slang then, and not about the Scottish.” After all, no matter what class, if he spoke Scottish to people, it would probably be frowned upon.
floating-dagger
Scottish. So, that was different than English somehow. This continued to confuse Javert, but he didn't dare voice any of said confusions. “Perhaps they may think it... odd, if I speak Scottish, but,” he turned back to the King, a glimmer of something that could almost be considered friendliness in his eyes, “whatever will happen if I meet you again? I must be able to impress you with my Scottish!”
The remark would have been sarcastic, were it not paired with a laugh from the Inspector. Javert himself looked shocked at this action, unable to hide it, as his façade crumbled before him. His cheeks reddened in embarrassment, and he felt the need to hide. No longer was he the cold, ruthless Inspector who people feared— rather, he was now the man who tried to crack jokes in front of Kings! As if he were a jester, though perhaps got paid less. “My apologies, Monsieur. Perhaps I got a little carried away...” He wanted to do nothing more than run away, and hide in shame.
