[P] tea for every occasion

[Isorath]

I S O R A T H THE SPIRE OF THE SUN Perhaps it would beguile, or disenchant her more if she knew his history.  Not of the crown which lay shattered and gathering dust upon stone stairs he'd rather forget, or the heart within his chest wrapped in ice and thorns — but the history of his flesh and blood. That one he was gold where he was white, with fire and light burning behind him in a glorious halo. Before this there had been just a stallion, a simpler time where he was rough around the edges desperate to detach himself from the life he had been raised to. A breath is exhaled, not quite a sigh, and the glint in his eye turned thoughtful for a moment. Then it is gone, like a cherry blossom on the wind. It was all too easy to get wrapped up in thoughts, the what ifs and what could bes. When a heart is placed in a position which caged it from the one thing it so desired, or the many things it so wished to have before the cage closed around it, it was hard not to stay the scissors. He'd flown once. Look where it'd left him. "There's a first time for everything." He responded with a smile, though his eyes glittered with mirth and mischief in their pale pools. "Worry not, I will not allow us to get too merry." The Sage assured with a small tilt of his head. He'd long come to have a tolerance for spirits, but those were mostly Taeryn in original, Dhossen fire water had been a particular favorite, with Sour Wines from the Bay and then the Veiled Brandy from the Mountainous East. Luckily, those were in another case, smartly for his own consumption, or reserved for those who came to him weary and tearful. "Arbor." Or perhaps not, the glittering gold liquid drew his gaze as quickly as Florentine's words had. "It is brewed in my homeland, I managed to track it down in the Night Markets." Isorath hummed, just a touch of nostalgia painting his words. "It is rare to find it outside of my home, it's mild don't worry. Sweet on the tongue, and it goes well with tea." The sage explained further, as if it might alleviate the Sovereign's worries. His words are only stopped by sips of his own tea, enjoying the warmth which flooded him. Court was an interesting game, a grand chess board where everything was up for gaining, and losing. It was not the only game however, for in the shadows of the black and white board games too were also played. Secrets and information bartered like gold coins and blood. Many often passed the days between moves with frivolous gossip and conversation, and Florentine & Reichenbach were no exception. Their story was intriguing, where it had been the Night King and the Dusk Emissary, it was now the Night King and the Dusk Queen. Crowns had an affinity for making love stories just that more interesting. Violet met Lilac as Florentine acknowledge the wonder of Denocte, and the company of it's Sovereign. Isorath is a watcher, an observer. Such as his duty demanded before ink and paper, once more his head tipped, the silver strands coiling elegantly around sharp cheekbones. "I trust all is well between you and Reichenbach?" The Kirin shifted slightly on his pillows as his wings unfurled a fraction from his sides, lightly stretching to seek out more of the warmth of the sun which filtered through. "It may never get truly comfortable, but one would argue that the crown is never meant to be." He hummed thoughtfully. "But, putting it on will get easier, even if it does not sit comfortably." Maybe it is harsh, to steer the conversation so abruptly, but politics and the good of the realm was never smooth sailing. It is not the first time Isorath has peered at a Queen and commanded answers, his gaze unwavering as he looked for even the smallest sign of hesitance. A lie instead of a truth. A slip that would determine the future of the Sovereign. He's inwardly pleased that she does not slip. There is no rush to supply him with an answer she hoped he would deem acceptable. "A kind and wise move. It will make Solterra more amiable and appear more warm, their position is not the greatest, considering the actions of their former Sovereign." He nodded, though the Sage's mind is more focused on the fact that an Alliance was not agreed, the pieces on the board are becoming more and more visible now. "It matters little now, the opinions of the incapacitated or deceased, whatever fate the Teyr had in mind for Maxence." He stated with a roll of one elegantly scaled shoulder. He lapsed into contemplative silence as Florentine elaborated on more of her plans, teke reaching out to uncork the gold liquid and add some to his own tea. "You may just find your wings after all," Isorath commented with a small smile, gilded liquid once more placed upon the table, "most would make the mistake of rushing to secure alliances. Stretching yourself thin is unwise, and pandering to other monarchs rather than protecting your own people is the folly of many new rulers." Another sip of tea, this time laced with the sweet taste of arbor, Isorath's eyes moved to watch the hummingbird with a small note of interest. "I would suggest that you reinforce your own council, a strong Court will help you when going into peace talks with the other Sovereigns." His eyes softened a fraction, setting his cup down as the misty hue of his teke dissipated around it. "Politics are not kind, they do not consider your emotions or your feelings. Having a good and loyal set of advisors behind you will be invaluable." @Florentine table scrolls!

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