The Most Important Rule is Kindness

Nairn leveled Ruth with a glare, as he adjusted how he was holding onto her. Especially as she sank into his side, concerned that she'd lose her footing, his arm slipped from her shoulders to around her waist. Four? She sounded proud of that, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes at her.

It was impressive, for her. And she'd been watched after... mostly. It was better than if she'd been left to her own devices with alcohol in her hand, he supposed. And eventually his gaze left Ruth.

They picked you? To run Arlathan? He grinned, and let his gaze find Ruth behind them. Good reason to let her get drunk, he acknowledged, almost too quietly to hear. No-one was watching them; too busy with their own booze and entertainment, so after another glance around he pressed a kiss to the center of her forehead.

You'll do wonderfully. Though he'd known this was a possibility, he hadn't expected it. Certainly, he'd wanted her to win... but he'd not thought much past that ideal. How this complicated his position with the C, how it'd complicate her ability to stay with him in the Marches...

But his face is schooled with a grin, and despite those complications, he's proud of her.