Bruno certainly did still know how to cower away from the staring, the curious looks, and half-heard murmurs, and he would cover that for the both of them. Gilia may find the strength to square her shoulders and keep her head high, but it was all he could do to keep from stumbling over his own feet as he helped lead her out of the tent and into the fresh air. He glanced back enough times at the people they were leaving behind, nervous energy almost vibrating off the poor man, but then they were out and the flap of the festival tent swung shut and he can relax some.

"There's... there should be a bench just over..."

There. He cast his gaze about for it, finding it soon enough and it'll be over there that he leads her. A quiet place to sit, but not too quiet. The music they left behind has begun again and it drifts out distantly to where they've retreated to.