In Eagrose's courtyard/fountain/aqueduct/whereverthefuck guards go when they're not a-guardin':
Argath picks up a stone and tosses it into the water, a nice little piece of animation I completely failed to screencap.
Argath: At least, until my grandfather was captured during the war. He turned traitor, thinking to buy his freedom with the lives of his friends. But his freedom scarce outlived his honor. He was not a dozen paces out their gate when the dagger found his back. Killed by some common squire, no more a knight than I. One of the men he betrayed later escaped and spread word of his misdeeds. My lord father would have none of it, of course. But he was the only one. Our bannermen deserted us, our reputation ruined. I suppose I had best remember my place. Your lord brother has no reason to lend ear to pleas from the likes of me.
R2 and Delita turn like they, quite appropriately, give zero fucks about Argath's life story.
Uncle Bill! Jody! Buffy! Mr. French! Mrs. Beasley!
Chief! McCloud!Enter Zalbaag, with the ladies.
R2: It's been some time, hasn't it, Zalbaag?
Dude that is straight up ice cold ignoring your sister like that.
Zalbaag: I heard about Gariland. They say you made short work of those brigands. Now you've truly the right to call yourself a Beoulve. Father would be proud.
R2: Thank you, Lord Brother.
Zalbaag: Ha! You certainly haven't changed. Gods forbid you show a bit of cheer on being praised! And you, Delita! Do not think word of your deeds escapes our ears. Your sister's been so full of pride I quite feared she might burst!
Tietra: Yes, the others have all been quite kind to me.
Zalbaag: Would that we could speak at greater leisure, but there are duties that require my attendance. Rogues do not catch themselves.
R2: I understand. Good luck.
Zalbaag turns to leave... but one more thing...
Argath: What?!
Zalbaag: Something about it sits unwell with me. They are anarchists to be sure, bent on bringing down the aristocracy. But they fancy themselves righteous, and prey only on the nobility and those in our employ. Would such as they truly kidnap the marquis for want of coin?
Argath: Why wouldn't they? They're naught but common footpads!
Zalbaag: One of the men I planted among them has not returned. I worry he may be caught up in something serious, but there are those who do not think some mere spy worth a search party's efforts.
I can only imagine Zalbaag delivers these lines through heavily waggling eyebrows.
R2: Where was he last known to be?
And we fall for it hook, line, and sinker.
Zalbaag: A merchant city named Dorter in eastern Gallionne. Guarding a castle grows dreadfully dull... wouldn't you agree?
Zalbaag leaves, his hints dropped with all the subtlety and grace of a rockslide.
Tietra: Don't worry about me -- just take care of yourself.
Delita and Tietra embrace.
R2: What do you mean?
Alma: She has a hard time of it at school. The others tease her for being lowborn. Forgive me, I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sure you have worries enough of your own. Tietra will be all right. I'm here to look after her.
R2: Then there is naught to worry about. But mind your own limits. You can't be responsible for everything.
Alma: Says the brother who never fails to do any and all that is expected of him. Don't lose sight of yourself, R2. You needn't let your life be ruled by the fact you were born a Beoulve.
R2: You're right. I really should stay here and guard the castle like I'm ordered instead of running around rescuing spies and shit.R2: Now you're starting to sound like Mother. Ha ha ha!
And then he leaves.