“I wouldn’t want to take you away from your adoring people,” Kris grinned up at Harry. Shoving himself up from the seat, he dodged Francis. “But elsewhere, yes. My ears ring in here.” Following the Prince to the door, Kris added, “Where, then, now?”
“They are only few, the drunken minds are always so merry here.” He smiled lightly, waving a small goodbye to them all, most to be Poins and Falstaff and his men. The prince rubbed his arm from the warm sides of the tavern to the cold and darkening dirt town.
“Where then?” Hal raised a brow, turning to Kris as he spun around on the dirt road to look to him. “I know not. Where else? We have a more open space with the nature, if that suits better than a tavern.”
Kris couldn’t help the diffident shrug. “You know this whole area better than I, Harry. I was just feeling … a little closed in, if you understand, in there.” Was this being drunk? Where the world seemed a little more vibrant, the stars a little brighter, and the ground shifted slightly under one’s feet?
Kris made his steps slow and careful, and paid little heed to the words he was speaking, a little too close to Harry. “Let’s go somewhere we can be alone together.”