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Summary
Really, there are many things he admires about him.
Their patrol, like any other day, is quiet. But it isn't the tense, wary quiet of the other knights, unsure of what to say, untrusting of bastards, wanting nothing more than to be rid of Aymeric's company and return to the Forgotten Knight with their own men. He'd accepted long ago that such was the way of things. But not with Estinien.
The others don't like him. Not at all. They don't like his blunt demeanor, his complete lack of social grace. He refuses any invitation to drink -- not that any try inviting him anymore. He cares not for any of the gossip from the Brume, from the high house maidens, from anyone. He shows no interest in his fellow knights' company, nor the women they tend to seek in the night. He speaks little. He trains extensively, showing more battle prowess than any other. How he wields a spear is something fearsome and beautiful, and...
That's all, Aymeric tells himself as they continue the long day's patrol. He's an excellent knight and a skilled companion. Nothing more.