"I've been informed you wanted a word with me."
Penli looked up at the familiar voice, smiling at the amusement in it. "Yes, Your Highness, if you do not mind."
Kallaar rolled his eyes. "You do not have to be so formal. You call Shanna by her name, why not me?"
"Because your home is even more obsessed with formalities than mine, Highness." Penli looked back down at his sleeve, scowling at the minute tear in it. Damn it, this was only the second time he'd worn this shirt. He did not lack for funds, but neither did he have quite the fortune he'd possessed back home. He could not afford to replace his clothes as often as he once had, and dash it all, he liked this shirt.
"I swear you cry harder over your clothes than you would over a dead body."
"Depends on the body," Penli said. "Also depends on the clothes. This shirt is Damarrian silk, and brand new; it should not have a tear. It wasn't there an hour ago."