Ah. Ahhhhh. Well, Byerly can't say he's surprised - he'd have to be quite a lot slower to be truly surprised - but it's still not the first Sonia he'd have guessed. After all, how likely is it to see Princess Sonia Vorbarra walking around, sans armsman? A little more likely when said princess is, apparently, a tricky, slippery little minx. How often does she get loose from poor Armsman Gavalas, he wonders? Enough that the poor man looks positively...resigned.

Well. Here goes, Princess. Here's hoping he can buy her a little reprieve at the cost of his dignity...After all, the people of this benighted era don't know just how devalued a currency his dignity is.

And so Byerly does a convincing stagger to the side, teeters, and then collapses into a snowbank off to the side. He long ago mastered the boneless-looking slump, a carefully controlled fall that looks completely uncontrolled. Usually used to fake passing out of drink, here of illness. "Is this - " He moans up piteously. "Princess, is this the man you called to help me?" And then, flopping a bit deeper into the snow - "Thank you, Princess, for nursing me...But I feel...I don't feel well..."