That's... Quite a bit to take in, so here's hoping you ladies won't mind him responding, at least initially, with a plain and very understated, "Oh."
Still, this isn't Allen's first brush with foreign royalty, so it takes him only a heartbeat to recover, hitch on a mildly apologetic smile, and say, "It's an honour, Your Highness, and―"
Here's the tricky part. The distinction in Nuala's tone of voice has gotten his attention all right, but without any background information to lend it some context, the most he can gather is something along the lines of 'She is Important, in the you-don't-want-to-piss-her-off kind of way.' In the end, he simply assumes it has something to do with the kind of status that usually comes with a title like hers. Which is unconventional for a woman, to say the least, but he's not about to ask.
"―Sir Hellsing." The smile fades, winds itself into a troubled twist. "I'm sorry about your agent, by the way. Is he all right? I've never heard of crows mobbing anyone before, but then again, there's nothing typical about these ones." White hair whispers over his collar as he turns back to Nuala. "Recent or not, I hope they aren't here to stay."
He's about to scan the skies again when Integra's question and, more notably, everything about the way it's delivered, make his eyes flick to hers instead. For a split-second, it almost feels like he's seeing someone else in her place. Then the brief moment of... Whatever's past, and he's laughing a little, restrained in a way that says he doesn't really want to, but can't quite help himself.
"Afraid I can't say 'no' in good faith when I haven't the foggiest idea where I am. Is the Valhalla Inn around these parts?"
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Still, this isn't Allen's first brush with foreign royalty, so it takes him only a heartbeat to recover, hitch on a mildly apologetic smile, and say, "It's an honour, Your Highness, and―"
Here's the tricky part. The distinction in Nuala's tone of voice has gotten his attention all right, but without any background information to lend it some context, the most he can gather is something along the lines of 'She is Important, in the you-don't-want-to-piss-her-off kind of way.' In the end, he simply assumes it has something to do with the kind of status that usually comes with a title like hers. Which is unconventional for a woman, to say the least, but he's not about to ask.
"―Sir Hellsing." The smile fades, winds itself into a troubled twist. "I'm sorry about your agent, by the way. Is he all right? I've never heard of crows mobbing anyone before, but then again, there's nothing typical about these ones." White hair whispers over his collar as he turns back to Nuala. "Recent or not, I hope they aren't here to stay."
He's about to scan the skies again when Integra's question and, more notably, everything about the way it's delivered, make his eyes flick to hers instead. For a split-second, it almost feels like he's seeing someone else in her place. Then the brief moment of... Whatever's past, and he's laughing a little, restrained in a way that says he doesn't really want to, but can't quite help himself.
"Afraid I can't say 'no' in good faith when I haven't the foggiest idea where I am. Is the Valhalla Inn around these parts?"