Child? No. Ianto did not think that Patchouli looked like a child, had reacted like a child. Had he reacted like he had not known, then yes. Some weren't as skilled as hiding their shock. He had learned how to hide many things long ago, being a King had not been easy. Treaties and diplomacy required one to hide what they were thinking. Sometimes even the hiding said more than you wanted it to. He was glad someone else had taken the mantle, that someone had taken it from him. He had held no hard feelings.
Every kingdom needed a King that was there and capable of handling the day to day necessities that were required. He had long since bowed out of that.
So he stood there and merely smiled, shrugging slightly. "It cannot be all learned in a day." And for now that would be enough. Had he said all those questions in his mind now, Ianto would have gladly answered them. He would have laughed and explained to the best of his ability. He would have understood. Ianto doesn't get angry easily.
"Yes. The Tundra is often quiet, even when there is a good King on the throne." It makes him think of him and Rigdon, so long ago, when it had seemed like they were the only two in the whole world. He had known it was not so of course, but the Tundra was so far north, and always colder than the rest of the lands. Few ventured to them. It had always been a matter of recruiting where they could. The Tundra struggled harder than the rest of the Kingdoms, always had.
He laughed a little. "I remember making it through my first winter. It was it's own gauntlet it seemed like." His ears flickered at Patchouli's words, smiling again. "My whole life." Perhaps then it was easier to see the age in the stallion's body. The gray around his mouth, speckled here and there within the colors of his coat, not only the white. And this land forced him to be strong, to stay fit, so he was. "Which has been some years."
Ianto
Nothing burns like the cold.