He stood without remark as she advanced upon him with soft admonishments. The grey of his eyes was as sharp as any blade in piercing the veneer of her queenly poise; it hung about her like an untailored dress, sufficient to the unpracticed eye, but through its wrinkles the red stallion caught glimpses of the mare who had not wanted to remember him, of the mare who had planted a forest of the dead. Raymond preferred that Isra - but then he would. He had little patience for monarchs.
You will be my Regent.
That drew a reaction.
Raymond's eyes widened just a bit, chin drifting upward. One could not quite call it shock, for he was frankly too tired to invest quite that much energy into his emotions, but her words certainly gave him pause where otherwise he might have offered some choice words about the contents and completion of his story.
After a split second's hesitation, he shook his head with a soft chuckle that relaxed the knotted sinews of his entire body. It was laughter earned by a bad joke sold flawlessly, wholesome and appreciative and most welcome, given the circumstances. He needed a good laugh.
When he met her eye again, it was with a genuine smile on his face. "The last time a sovereign offered me a job, I ran off to chase dragons and as far as I'm aware she's currently still being treated at Terrastella's fancy new hospital." Whoops. You know, things happen, boys will be boys and tarrasques will be sixty-foot-tall murder machines, and so on. "Some might say I have, ah, issues with authority -" topple enough kingdoms and scoff at enough gods and that particular accusation becomes very difficult to shake - "and I'm not very good at blowing smoke up people's asses to make them feel better."
But then Isra wasn't asking, which meant providing disuasive arguments wasn't likely to have any effect. Raymond knew the tactic well: he himself never asked yes or no questions unless he could afford the consequences of a no, a fact that made him appreciate the mare's guts far more than equipping a hastily-fashioned queen suit had done. She knew a few things about him - not all of them good - and had approached him anyway.
"Why me?"
Raymond.
and at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
when the man comes around
and at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
when the man comes around
@Isra | =O
aut viam inveniam aut faciam
