A
pleased hum escaped the winged kirin as Reichenbach accepted his invitation, a hint of delectation skittered across his bejewelled gaze, like the crack of lightning over head. It was there one minute, and gone with the next flick of his strikingly white lashes. Such meticulousness had been branded into his bones at a young age, where the common, rambuctious youths of Sunsyia bounded gleefully through the streets with wild abandon — his had been the ivory and gold tower. Even down to the way his starlit strands spilled down his shoulders, waterfalls of moonbeams against the stone — were a product of a life spent being groomed for perfection. Love, war, and even the book had been taught with the intention of creating effortless perfection. Well if there's tea...
Isorath exhaled a breathless laugh at that, though he remained focused on seeing that the tea was properly poured and prepared. "It is a white tea I brought with me from Sunysia, with silver needles and Jasmine." Satisfied, the stallion offered one of the cups out toward the Sovereign with a smirk dancing upon his lips. Feather light but sharp as a knife.
"I have a feeling we may need far more tea than we have before these times find an end." He agreed, a songbird's note of humor carefully laced within his words. His own cup is pulled close to his lips after he is sure Reichenbach has his, the steam curling over the soft pink of his nose as he inhaled softly. The Sage is not immune to the seriousness of the topic which is coming, the daggers hidden behind veils of black satin and silk. There is a weight to this meeting that neither of them can deny, but must be faced. He is prepared, and so he waited with a serene quietness until Reichenbach's lips parted with his next words.
You've heard of the Day and Dusk alliance, I presume?
"I have," Lavender gaze swept to a nondescript scroll to his right, unremarkable save for the broken wax seal of the dusk imprinted upon it, "I cannot say I'm a supporter of this development, either." He cannot and does not mask the displeasure which made his words bitter on the tongue. It's washed down with a sip of his tea, and the kirin takes a moment to simply enjoy the way it silkly washed down his throat. Heavy was the crown, especially in troublesome times, where duty conflicted with the affairs of the heart. Relationships, friendships. They weren't immune to the upheaval.
A subtle tilt of his head followed, as he regarded Reichenbach silently for a moment, assessing those metallic silver eyes of his as he mulled over his next words. "Understandable, Denocte has long been a place who does not take kindly to having their own harmed. I too, would be demanding retribution for Rostislav's treatment. Solterra, well," he paused with a decisive breath. "Solterra, well, they are a land filled with warriors and a history of bloodshed. The conflict was unavoidable, it is what you do in these next moves on the board that will decide the outcome, whether it is war or something else." It reminded him too much of home, how many times had the southern nations clashed with the nomadic people of the plains?
"You have my loyalty, Reichenbach." He began, sincerity branded into every syllable, forgoing his title deliberately. Lavender eyes do no dare leave the abyssal depths of molten silver they are caught within, handsome indeed. One stallion to another, a Sovereign to a Sovereign whose throne had rusts away beneath his hooves at the expense of others. Cup placed back against the dark wood as he shifted upon his makeshift throne of pillows and blankets, crystals and gold glittered in the low torchlight as the fire caught the many facets and polished links. "And my talents, even my opinions, if you so wish. I would not betray the Court who has become a second home."
The change in topic doesn't throw him for a moment, he adjusted with well practiced ease. "They are going remarkably well, your sages have been kind and informative. Calligo is an interesting Goddess, just as your history is. Color me envious."
@Reichenbach
