Al-Cid meandered on by, his thumbs hooked into his belt, sunglasses in place as they always were, his inexplicable hairstyle done to perfection (at least in HIS mind). This place had very little to do, especially compared to Rozarria... and he found himself growing bored very, very quickly.
A strange man with stranger hair caught Balthier's eye. ....Was that..... He was sure he heard of that man.... Rozarrian, was he? Balthier rested his chin on his hand as he studied the stranger though the glass.
The wonderful, wonderful smell of food tempted the prince inside soon enough, and he charmed his way to one of the best tables, sitting down by himself with a menu. He ordered a club soda with a few slices of lemon to drink, and then he removed his sunglasses so that he could actually read the menu.
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Stealthy, he got up, circled around the restruaunt and approached Al-Cid from behind.
".....Bit of a far peice from where you're from, isnt it?" Balthier remarked over his shoulder.
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