[ He removes his coat, hanging it on a chair, and Mirena unintentionally lets a sigh of relief escape her; fortunately it's nearly covered by his casual words as Bard makes his way to the kitchenette, and she's able to focus on what he says enough to reply with some incredulity. ]

Dragon? [ She can't help the note of disbelief, nor the small smirk that quirks her lips. ] You speak as though such a creature actually exists; it cannot be possible.

[ Then his last words sink in, and she follows him on tentative feet into the kitchen to ask of them. ] ...You made mention of your people. Are you a prince?

[ not a very fashionable one, though, is he. ]