[ Daryl's cagey scowl relaxes a little more despite himself, but he still doesn't seem like he's edging any closer to 'friendly'. The way this guy talks... it's all tight, proper, upper class-like, and it makes Daryl feel instantly uncomfortable. Like whoever talks like that is also someone who'll be judging him as some poor son of a bitch. He's not dressed as haggardly as he was when he arrived here, at least his wounds have been dealt with and he's no longer blood-soaked, but Daryl knows there's something about him that just reads as off to those with money. He assumes the kid means that he's used to much finer fare. ]

Yeah, well. Lucky you, princess.

[ But then... Kelson continues to speak, and Daryl looks at him like he's just spouted another head. The palace? Is this kid some delusional little ritzy brat, or is... is this something similar to how almost everyone else he's met here seems to just be weird? In one way or another?

Speaking perfect English and not knowing what the word kid means though... that takes the damn cake. Well, almost. He's seen some pretty weird shit here already. Maybe this little princess isn't that weird, after all, everything considered.

It's only then that Daryl realizes he's been standing there staring at the guy with a bit of stunned look on his face. ] What d'you mean the palace? You the Queen of England or some shit?

[ But he also thinks the kid might have just introduced himself, so Daryl squints at him in his typical hesitant, suspicious way. ] Kelson your name? [ It's a bit of a weird name, but like Daryl can talk. He eyes the girlish braid though, thinking princess again in the back of his mind, but he picks up on the cough this time, if for no other reason than he's thinking maybe the guy's been bitten. Probably not though, or he'd been looking a lot more pallid. Can't hurt to be careful, though ] A kid, y'know... A kid. A child, whatever. You sick or somethin'?