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Contrary to the belief of certain individuals, Viltre didn't know everything that went on. He tried, oh did he try. But certain things just tended to happen, in spite of preparation against malice. Sometimes, events just fell into place rather than being guided. These were called 'accidents', and there was no getting around the damn things. So it was here, when the tall boy came along in time to see someone carrying his sister around. Rather than march up and demand to know what happened, he followed his instincts and hung back, observed for a little while. If the other young man turned out to be dangerous, well, a knifestroke could solve that in short order.

But he wasn't, and didn't. A nod to the guard, a little sidling around a bookcase, and hey presto! The second son stepped out almost directly into Tiam's way, smiling warmly. He'd picked up a ledger, more for the fit of the thing than any pressing need to review its' contents. ...Though he would be doing that later, on principle. "Whoa there neighbor! What'cha doing running off like this?" A seeming realization, and he paused, nodding and putting the fingers of his free hand to his collar. "Sorry, my name's Viltre. You just helped my little sister out, an' I'd like to thank you."

Sharp eyes flicked here and there, missing very little. Viltre adjusted his stance and distance to more comfortable placements. Now that their guest was off-balance enough not to leave, he could proceed with the next bits. "No harm done, no trouble at all, messere. Good to meet'cha, Tiam."

The slenderer boy's smile took a wry tone, his eyes twinkling in quiet laughter. Modesty, perhaps? Or something else? "And carried her all the way back here, if I've still got my hearing. If it's the field I'm thinking of, that's a long way, an' a hot one besides. Y'did us a good turn, an' I'd at least see you watered before you get on your way. C'mon, let's swing by the kitchen first."

While the lad took a moment to look away, Viltre seized that time to study him further, begin putting things together. In his head, the taller boy began to form an outline of this new person. A wave beckoned, and the house scribe led on towards the kitchens.Though the next words were pompous,there was a clear undertone of jest that gave away the lie. "You did us a good turn, Tiam. I guess we could take offense just 'cuz you've got dusty boots. We merchants are so terrible fussy, you know.

...Seriously, though, humor me my pride. Someone does your kin a kindness, would you let 'em walk away without at least a thanks? Especially if you know they've sweated it out in the doin'?" A pause at a corner, a look back with a warm grin. "Unless you've got pressing business right this minute?"

Viltre's deep chuckle carried well down the hallway. A mental note to ease off on the needling humor, to go for broader jests. "Relax, guy. I'm joking with you. My lil' sis Terrwyn tracks in worse, don't worry about a little dust. With two exceptions that're out doing stuff right now, nobody here is gonna be all that miffed over road-dirt."

A nod, and they kept on going. The kitchens were in the back of the house, where guests didn't need to see it at first. At least he listens well once he stops with the panic; good trait to have. "Glad you understand. Surprised a nice gent like you hasn't thought that kinda thing through. Hold yourself well; what's your trade, anyway?"

"Ah. That explains a couple things. I'm a big brother, myself, so I've gotta look out for 'em all." The answer had green eyes blinking, lips pursing thoughtfully. "Healer? Hmm. Would've taken you for a bit rougher a trade, at a glance. Then again, I don't know everything, now do I?"

The kitchen doors opened, the slimmer boy leading around, past the bustle of a successful merchant's staff. With practiced ease, he navigated through the hustle and out on the other side, waiting by the pantry. There were a few tables and chairs near that back corner, for the cooks and helpers to take their rest and feed themselves, and Viltre motioned for him to take a seat. "So what're you partial to? We're pretty well-stocked for surprise guests, only most of it's gotta be cooked first. Got some dried fruits and meats, though, if you're peckish."

In fairness, it was a large family, and had to maintain a suitably sized kitchen to sustain regular meals for everyone. That same grin and a slim hand waved away the perceived fault, or slight, or whatever it had been. "Don't worry about it. Nothin' spilled an' nobody's hurt, so nothin' went wrong." Most of Viltre's mask emulated emotional response by dialing the faint stirrings up. Faint amusement, here, to cracking up into laughter. "Expensi- Pppppht! Hahahahahahahaa!" It didn't last long, no more than a few seconds. Faking mirth wasn't hard, but it couldn't go far before it rang false. Sincerity took art.

"Hoo... We're just merchants, guy, not some kinda lords. We." A moment to pause, and amend that thought before it left his mouth. "Okay, my mother an' youngest siblings think we are, but I run some of our books an' can tell you different." They kept a few jugs of clean water on hand, separated from washwater by container and clear placement. A tin cup was on the counter within moments, full of water. Kitchens were hot work, especially in Tale, and the workers needed regular hydration. However ruthlessly Merle ran the household, she wasn't stupid. You treated your workers well if you wanted loyalty, and you never messed with the people that made your food. The hosting boy sat down across from Tiam, picking up his own mug. "Startin' to wonder what kinda stories you've heard of the Kavensei, at this rate."

It was worth noting that for all of his streetwisdom, all of his intelligence, Viltre was still a rich kid. Knowing how his family actually made their money didn't change this. "That... s**t, that came out wrong. I'm sorry." How to say it right... Laughing was not the correct response there. Noted and filed for next time. "Meant to say we don't eat all that fancy. Most of the cost comes from having to buy a lot, 'cos my Da insists on a really big family. Vigorously. I've got eight siblings here, an' two of their mothers live here. That's not counting the people that work here, or the cousins, or the guests. It's a shameful thing, lettin' guests go hungry."

Which, as far as Vulir and Merle were concerned, included the staff and their families, at need. They generally agreed on business decisions, and loyalty definitely counted. Keep a man's family fed, and he was less distracted, more likely to work more or harder for you. Being good to your workers was an investment. "That's true on both counts. Most merchant families don't get as big as that." Apparently, it hadn't dawned on Tiam that he was f speaking to a Kavensei. As it might have just made things more awkward, his host saw no need to correct that oversight.