Trente understood, and it showed. The language was plain to him, and the terms fair, beyond kind in fact. The term "serve" specifically tickled him, and along his skin, still feeling foreign and far away something prickled. He did not fight it, not focus upon it. He felt free from all sensation, clear of thought. He wondered what other applications this ability might have, as visage gave forth that of agreement.
His eyes flexed, effortlessly, and seamlessly, swirling with vivid blue, with an undercurrent of relaxed and deep warmth. His eye did not alter hue, but they tumbled and mixed as if acrobatics, of molten glass in the hands of nothing short of a master. Seamless was this change, accented ever so slightly by a tightening of the eyes, rise of cheeks, and adorned by the corner of his lips hinting at a smile.
"I, Trente Ostentatoire-Criard Eclatante, will serve you, Hadrian Aelius, for this Summer of the 512nd year after the Valterrian, that I will keep my work a secret even beyond the term of my employment, which may or may not be renewed at Summer's end. Should I find any task morally repugnant, I will quit this service early." The oath came freely from him, without much demand on his keenly focused mind, the memory seemed to stick firmly there in his consciousness, he wondered if it would remain after. He accepted the possibility that the mage may for his will to adhere to these words. This did not scare him, for he did not fear the oath. As much as he feared the mage himself, for due cause.
He was complimented by Hadrian's keen memory, to recall his name so well, and wondered if that clarity it what the Professor held at all times. Beyond this he had to wonder if he had traveled to that office of his own accord at all, a thought that would never leave him. Constantly he would test his will, though silently. For the moment, however, he less the sensation take him, if Hadrian was so devious none could be done in that moment about it. Instead he pondered upon the man's words. Things that must be done. Something so urgent to use magic so blatantly? Perhaps this would be interesting, perhaps this is exactly what he searched for in Zeltiva.
He had promised himself patience, to settle, to stop journeying like a lost boy, and partying as one. But, till that moment doubt had grasped him so firmly he could not bare it. Hadrian, he gave promise, however. Promise of a place in Zeltiva where Trente would influence, could matter. He nodded, confidently to seal the deal.