[Estinien looks past Aymeric, at their fellows who were occupied with their own searching or eating or... well, whatever it was keeping them from their side of the building.]

Unless you expect some manner of yelling, full sure am I that we can speak in some privacy. The lordling and Lord Haurchefant are no more in earshot of us as we are of them.

Speak plain, Aymeric, though I mislike the start of this already.

[Matters of the heart, he said, idiocy Estinien named it. With a Reese's in hand, he paused, waiting to see what Aymeric wished to fully speak of, before helping himself to this small brown cup of mystery.]