With a simple enough answer to start, Konrad nodded and let himself focus- his eyes and hands at least- onto his work trimming and cleaning Stephen's soaked nails. A mentor was a very broad picture to paint. He himself had had several mentors throughout the coarse of what he was sure to be a comparably short time next to Stephen's- or rather Taelian's- considerable lifespan. Some hand been better received into his childhood than others, but he was at least immediately familiar with the generic, yet to be elucidated relationship between his charge and the woman who presumably had played a large role in shaping Stephen into the man he now was.
She seemed to hold several names, though none held any real meaning to him. He was unfamiliar with the accent Stephan and quite unable to place it, though he didn't ask for clarification; foreigners were all relatively interchangeable as far as he was concerned: interesting but not exactly necessary to know the exact place they all came from. The simple fact of her not being of Lorien was enough to sate that particular vein of interest.
He did, however, arc one of his eyebrows at the concept of a more influential Celebrant. His expression was not one of disbelief but rather a vaguely amused concern. That any group should wield more power or influence than the Rien Celebrants seemed to neatly align with that age old expectation of barbarianism. As for the Entente... "You may find it a surprise, but the vast majority of whatever literature that... collective of mages does produce is entirely vacant from my father's libraries. I'd imagine such a distinct lacking of such would be the case most anywhere else in Lorien." He sighed a little, considering what strange tales a self-made and largely unrecognized nation of magic wielding madmen might produce and his abysmal chances of ever getting to sample them.
"Our books detail their uprising and subsequent conquer and subjugation of the region as an affront to sensibility and civility. Beyond that, I know very little of Daravin. Or her people, for that matter." It was interesting to a degree, but the magic of Lodge, practiced by Rien men and women and moderated by the purportedly vigilant eyes of the Galbrechts was one thing. The unchecked magical lunacy of Daravin was quite another. It colored Eloise several shades more sinister, at the very least.
As far as Stephen seemed to be concerned, Eloise went above and beyond any expectation Konrad had ever held for his own mentors. Stephen's recollections made the woman out to be quite appealing in spite of her duplicitous state of names and pseudo-political affiliations. "Like a mother" was a phrase he'd read often. It was littered throughout poems and prose from all over Atharen, and it was one of the many, many things Konrad couldn't quite understand. His own was as much a stranger to him as any passing face on the street; she'd birthed him as was her duty, and as he'd lacked that which might have inspired, as he read it, any "maternal instinct".
The grooming of talent, however, Konrad understood quite well. He'd never had any to begin with, but he'd certainly benefited from the many years of everyone else trying to squeeze it of him anyway. While he appreciated it now as a young man with plenty of possibilities in all manner of idle pass times, he couldn't recall ever being very fond of the various teachers, instructors, and even his own parents who all had had a hand in his admittedly disappointing development. Stephen sounded quite the opposite, glad, even, to have had anyone invest even a modicum of interest from another person. Just yet another reminder of how very different their lives had been and continued to be.
"But?" Konrad questioned, gaze raised just long enough to silently state he was both still listening and very much interested in what was to come next before falling back to Stephen's outstretched hand. What followed was a reasonable if not disheartening end to the short story of Eloise. The leader of that shadowy organization he still knew next to nothing about, a seductress in her own right, and a desire for power both political and magical all fell well within the realm of expectation.
"A pity," he murmured, shaking his head as he gently worked away at Stephen's nails as he laughed- a humor Konrad figured was directed at Stephen's own frustrations and disappointments. "Though, I suppose it only right to point out that both interests and goals do often align, especially where the powerful are concerned. From what you've said, there seems little reason to doubt that the Lady Eloise wasn't genuinely interested in you, your well-being, and your guided development under her tutelage."
He ran his thumb along the edge of each of Stephen's nail to make certain they wouldn't catch then set the basin aside and slowly pat the other man's hands dry with the towel. "There's a sort of expectation that comes with being useful, you know," he continued, straightening up with towel in hand to stare down at Stephen with a thoughtful curve of his lips. "Or rather, I suppose... the capability of being useful," he clarified with a small furrow to his brow.
"I can imagine far worse women and men for you to find yourself serving under. The man who forced magic upon you to fight in his war regardless of your own aspirations, for one," he recalled, tone soft from drawing upon memory. "At the very least, she saw a potential in you, which she fostered, and now merely expects you to return upon the investment. There's no need for pity, for yourself or otherwise. Are you not glad to have been taken under her proverbial wing? Though the authority she grants you may indeed be an illusion, you must at least agree it is quite a very good illusion indeed."
He glanced slowly around the room to further illustrate his point. "Though, of course, I know only what you've told me, and I can only imagine there's much more left unsaid." It was presented as a fact rather than an attempt at pulling more from him. "As one who, as you say, tends to needs, soothes wounds, and embarks on errands at the behest of another myself," he continued, emptying the water basin and hanging the towel to dry. "It's not so bad a transient fate; just see to it you not remain in such a state indefinitely, I suppose. It wouldn't suit you." His smile was genuine as the thanks that followed. "At any rate, I do appreciate you being so willing to explain these things to me."
All other matters taken care of, Konrad's pleasant smile shifted to a more pensive frown. "I... have no objections to being party to such a thing, though I can say with confidence that particular facet of magic speaks volumes of a single word to my tastes. That word," he continued to elucidate without a hint of jocularity, "Being 'no'." Just the thought of mutilating one's self into the shape of unkempt creature was enough to pitch his stomach into a bit of roll. "I make no promises as to whether you might find my own stories pitiable enough, but I believe I myself will need the wine."
He softened his apparent disgust for Stephen's Animus with a light laugh. "You may count on the wine and myself being present, at the very least." Near the door but not yet making a move to leave, he inclined his head towards his charge, mirth exchanged for polite investigation. "Will there be anything else this evening, Lord?"
