Cal laughs off the help in paying his way, having a sneaking suspicion that the grubbing scribe would have denied him entry otherwise. Saved climbing a wall in the night, at least.
As they near the tavern, he finally confides to his new friends, "One might say I have high blood, but not high birth, if you get my meaning." He shrugs with a small grin, "Father's wife didn't appreciate my mother as much as he did. I am most certainly the son of a King. But I am no Prince, and have no claim. There are times when the name will gain me favor, but often in these western lands those times are few. Seems as though this would be one of those times."
Cal claims a chair at a table in the corner, keeping his eyes towards the door and back to the wall. "It is thus that I make my own way in this world, and am not pulled along by the tassels of my father's robes."