Though the possessed teacup is all too confident in its ability to evade the Poochyena's attempts, it quickly floats back to its master anyway, guiding the little canine along like one would a rabbit with a carrot. The sound of its playful snarling and desperate whining catches Remiel's attention, who shifts his blue-grey eyes away from his book before realizing Earl Grey hovered over his shoulder. With all the grace and practiced motion of someone who had clearly done this many times before, he reached up to delicately clasp a finger through the Sinistea's cup handle and hold it down against his lap as he would a regular cup of tea. The book he held in his other hand was set aside on the café table in front of him before he settled back.

Seeing the man wrestle his Poochyena down onto the floor was something he had not expected to see at this establishment. The sight of it was enough to distract him from the man's features for a minute or two, until he realized that they looked somewhat familiar. Still holding the sentient teacup upon his lap, he looked down at his partner when the gentleman seemed to have trouble identifying it. "A Sinistea," He chimed in, turning his nonchalant gaze back up onto the scruffy young man with his scruffy dog. "They're native to Galar. Is this... your first time coming across one?" He inquired, not all too sure why he cared himself but slightly curious nonetheless. After all, it had been months since the embargo on Galarian pokémon had been lifted, had it not?

Ah, a competitive trainer native to Hoenn. Another quick glance at him and the royal supposes he should have surmised as much. Any lingering, fleeting question he might have is put on pause when the pup huffs. And there's a slightly uneasy moment when the young man lifts himself off of his little canine, the pair of them watching to see whether it would lunge for Earl Grey or not. When the latter is soon firmly established, however, the flow of their impromptu meeting resumes.

"By all means," The black-haired royal responds, gesturing towards the empty lounge chair across from him. "This is a shared space, after all. Though I will admit... I'm not accustomed to such things." He'd very much been raised in the kind of environment others would designate as 'sheltered'. Being a part of the general public, especially in a foreign land, was an entirely new experience that he was still learning to understand and grow comfortable with.

But... small talk. That was normal in these kind of situations, correct? Even royals did that.

"So... I take it you're a League trainer, then? How is your gym challenge faring?" He inquires, ignoring the little purple blob of a head that emerges from the pool of ectoplasm in the teacup he holds. With little tiny arms and hands, it pulls itself up to the brim of the cup and peeks out at the dog trainer. Then it bows.

The arrival of the barista is enough to prompt Earl Grey to excuse himself from Remiel's grasp, becoming a floating teacup once more that soon finds itself at the center of the coffee table between them before long. Replacing his companion with the frothy cappuccino he had ordered, Remiel thanks the attendant before raising the brim of the new cup to his nose for a deep inhale. Rich. Sweet. Nutty. And, from the looks of it, perfectly textured. He had already surmised it was worth the wait, but made that fact concrete once he finally took his first sip. As he did so, the young man remarked on people Remiel had never personally met before. Though he certainly wasn't daft enough to think they weren't related to the League's elite four.

Before answering the young lad's inquiry, the dark-haired prince takes his time to savor that sip of his cappuccino, and simultaneously puts some thought into his forthcoming answer as well. Before long, he decides the answer is fairly simple. "I've been far too mired in important work, but I challenge a gym leader when I can make the time for it. It's certainly more of a personal goal than a quest for riches and glory." Though he supposed, if he continued down this path he was on successfully, it would eventually lead to great boons of that as well.

"Do you happen to know Stormy Silph ?" He asks, lifting his cup to his mouth with perfect balance. "She is just about the only gym leader I have had the pleasure to know beyond any superficial level. I've yet to congratulate her for the recent promotion, however." He flatly adds, taking another sip.

The Galarian isn't exactly surprised. Stormy certainly had a magnetic personality, even if she didn't care to admit it. She'd even managed to, effortlessly, garner his own trust somehow. Enough to bring her along on a private assault on pirates, anyway. She wasn't perfect, of course. No one really was. But she was certainly worthy of her title.

If there was a joke to be had in the young lad's latest inquiry, it flew right over Remiel's head as he answered. "Not quite. It simply seems to me that you know quite a few influential people here in Hoenn. I'm curious about that." He nonchalantly remarked, taking another sip.

It is only after savoring the taste for a third time, then lowering the cup from his mouth, that he realizes something. "Oh. I'm afraid I've been terribly rude." He speaks, setting his cup down on the coffee table beside his dormant Sinistea. Rising from his seat, he reaches over the table with an extended hand. "Remiel Calcifet, pleasure. And you are?" The prince queries.

Kyle Lopez.

Remiel couldn't say he'd heard that name before. Certainly not within his own ranks in Team Rocket. But he was confident their head of intel could scrounge up a portfolio for it, given enough time. This Kyle Lopez seemed to mingle with some of Hoenn's biggest players, after all.

When he'd settled back into his seat on the couch, Remiel was almost shocked to hear the lad bring them up again. He couldn't possibly be telepathic on any level... could he? No, that was nonsense. They were simply continuing the conversation from where they'd left off. The delayed introduction in-between said conversation was to blame for the awkward transition. Nothing more.

"Yes, that's quite... funny." Well, not quite. In fact, he'd experienced such things countless times in his life. Growing up as the prince of Hammerlocke meant a lot of banquets, galas, balls, and parties. And all of those meant even more introductions. He'd seen childhood friends and acquaintances grow up to be important politicians, wealthy businessmen, and even powerful trainers. Some of them had even become kings and queens.

Realizing they were in the thick of a silence that could easily be considered awkward in itself, he cleared his throat and reached over to lift his cappuccino back up off the coffee table. "Do you ever feel like... you're being left behind?"

The thought had slipped his mind and escaped his lips as a question. He only realized it seconds after, upon which he blinked and cleared his throat again. Raising the wide brim of the cappuccino cup to his lips, he hoped it was enough to shield what he perceived to be faint embarrassment on his cheeks. How uncouth. How amateur.

Remiel was, naturally, quite a tough person to read. And he was quite conscious of the fact. It brought some sense of relief to him to think Kyle had failed to realize he had actually been posing the question in regards to his own experience. What this man ultimately made of his life was of little consequence to him. At least, for the foreseeable future.

Even so, Kyle's words resonated with him deeper than he would have imagined. The truth he found in them were solely to blame, of course. He sighs and lowers his cappuccino down to a hover above his lap, gazing out the rain-speckled window.

"And yet so many idolize fame. Power. Wealth. They remain ignorant to the true weight of its responsibilities. Or are simply too proud to believe they can't handle it. Some would rather grip a sword by its blade than ever let it go..."

Realizing he's gone on a bit of a tangent, he shifts his eyes back onto the young man across from him. "So you pity your companions, then?"