[Since Alfred didn't seem to object to him preening his hair, he moved on to his clothes, straightening his collar and toying with his shirt idly as he tried to force himself to stay focused on the conversation and not on dwelling on how nice Alfred's voice was to listen to or how soft his hair was or wondering if he smelled good. He probably did. Maybe like an herb or a spice. Something subtle.

He blinked a little upon hearing his father's full name, brow furrowing slightly.] Alright... [Now he was confused. Alfred hadn't known him, but his father had given Alfred the priest's, or monk's, or whatever's cross.] Why did he give it to you? And... why do you ask about him?

I know he is-[He stops himself, eyes jumping to Alfred's face nervously, unsure if he's breaking some kind of terrible news to him, or not.]- dead... But you knew that, right?