Yes, it seems best

The more you think about it, the more it seems that it would be best to keep Lady Trina at your side. After all, there is a chance you might be recognized, and if that were to happen you could easily be mobbed. Even if no one in the crowd had ill intentions toward you, such a situation could quickly become dangerous, and not just for you! With Trina at your side, you stand a much better chance of either avoiding such problems or getting out of them if necessary.

{if Fortunes = 1}Hanzi allows you and Trina to use his own tent to change, where you both {else}And so, once you reach the Mill, you and Trina duck into an attached shed to {endif}remove armor and adornments which are too rich for common-folk, and assume cloaks of rougher cloth. Your sword you keep, wrapping the scabbard to hide the ornate carvings and gold accent, and covering the hilt with rags - which not only hides the obviously masterful craftsmanship and the huge sapphire in the pommel, but also sends the signal that you do not wish to draw it. Lady Trina removes her own sword-belt, but re-buckles it over one shoulder so that the sword hangs down her back, out of sight but no less at the ready than it would be at her side. It would be something of a dead giveaway if she were openly armed, as Trina has a certain notoriety of her own!

"It occurs to me, Lady Trina," you say to her as you check each other's disguises to ensure there is nothing which reveals you, "that we do not look very much alike, and the accent in your speech is noticeably different from mine; we would not be very convincing as siblings or even cousins. The most likely reason for a man and woman such as ourselves to be visiting the festival together would be that we are husband and wife."

With Trina's fair complexion, it is easy to see a blush, but she has trained herself relentlessly to keep her composure and not give away her emotions. Still, there is the very faintest color to her cheeks as she considers this. "That is true, Sire. For the duration, we should probably assume that identity."

"What, then, shall I call you? Your own name is known to people, and a shrewd observer might make the connection."

"My family name is Sarawynn, Sire. There were many who called me Sara in my youth, and I am accustomed to answering to that name. Of course, I cannot call you 'Sire' either."

"I would prefer not to invent a name," you say. "I am not devious by nature, and in a state of distraction I might slip; that would be more suspicious than if I simply used my own name in the first place. There are many people named Xavier; I cannot be the only one in Elyssia this day."

"I suppose that is true, Sire... Xavier," she corrects herself.

"If we are to pull this off, Sara, it will need to sound as though you have always called me by name. And you must not stand so, as if you are at attention. Try to relax, and act as though you are not on duty. Has it been so long since you were a commoner that you have forgotten how the simple folk behave?"

She seems to stifle a laugh, for a moment - and then, realizes that holding it back is exactly what she should not do, and her face breaks into a smile. The transformation is startling, and you realize that in all the time Trina has been of your Kingsguard, you have never really seen her smile or laugh; she adopts an attitude of such stoicism that you never really even thought of her doing so. She is a striking woman, even beautiful; that, you have certainly noticed before. But in the moment that she drops her fierce demeanor, Trina becomes something which you have never seen in her.

She is... pretty.

After a moment you realize that you have been staring at her, and she has been staring back, both of you just standing there. She seems to notice it at the same time, and quickly looks away.

"Yes, well, we haven't much time," you say lightly. "If we are to experience the festival as commoners, Sara, we must be about it."

"Of course, Xavier," she says, and you know she was about to say "Sire" but stopped herself before it popped out.

You offer your arm, and she takes it; stiffly, at first, but then she relaxes her hand and tries to look as though the two of you walk about like this all the time. It's another first, as you have never before had the occasion to escort Trina in this manner, and you notice how remarkably strong her hands are. Naturally, the constant training with the sword would have this effect; but her hands are so slender as to belie their strength.

The two of you emerge into the sunlight, and as you make your way through the crowded road you begin to feel better about the whole thing. In this throng of people from far and wide, some of them looking very exotic to your eyes, you and Trina would be the last to warrant extra attention. It is with ease (and even some relief) that you abandon the regal posture which has been drilled into you over the years and walk with relaxed shoulders, breathing deeply of the fresh breeze from the mountains which keeps the great crowd of people and animals from fouling the air too much.

"Well, here we are, my husband," Trina says without a trace of self-consciousness; it is as if she has called you such for years. "There is so much to see... where shall we go?"