PERHAPS IT ISN’T WISE TO fraternize with the ‘enemy’, however, the prince and his party are no more his enemy than all creatures to a king behemoth, those that walk about on the tier below that of the apex predator. He appreciates the sharp wit more than he lets on, the narrowing of gelid gaze playing toward his typical demeanour, portraying his mask every bit as carefully as he allows. He’s practiced, precised in the art of deception, after all, his ascension to his position in the army was not for show. Blood has been shed for it, much blood – and Ignis Scientia is well aware of his threat, the first to advance in protection of his charge while others cowered.
❛ The commodore is not the only figure to keep an eye on your group. There is little you truly know of the inner workings of the empire. ❜ He says, and it’s simple fact. She would not approach them in aid, if he had not authorized it ( doing so for his sister’s sake, as much as the safety of their collective peoples; it was never about a selfish agenda. ) But he is not one to stand in the spotlight, preferring the shadows of anonymity. He does not seek heroism, like so many others; it is not in his aloof nature to pose platitudes, and the tactician can deal with his real self, or not at all.
❛ Contrary to what you may believe, I’m not here to fool about. There is a large blockade up the path you were planning to take – more than you can currently handle, I assure you. I would detour. ❜ A test of the newest magitek techology, a number of large armors outfitted with far too many turrets to count.
❛ Take the advice. From one protector to another. ❜
It stops being advice the moment it slips from the enemy's tongue, a premature poison intended to seep beneath the skin of someone adamant of his own. It makes sense that the empire would be yearning for a chance at delight. A chin tilts, listening, and a cool expression is kept upon settled mien to show vague interest in whatever it is that must be said. And things must be said of their own accord. These are unfortunate confessions shared between those who should remain apathetic towards one another for the sake of those they cherish, and so he persists eagerly. A hum is given of acknowledgement, bag of goods adjusted on a sharp, curved hip. This would not be the first time.
" I do not fraternize, you should know. I am keen on removing any problems that should arise. " loyalty tastes sweet, and the means to an end has always been bitter'd fascination. " And so it seems problems should arise. "
And it continues like that without permission, a careful nod given where politeness is due. It would be a shame to run their group through such a mess of a field when they're down a promising shield, but Ignis has always done what he thought best in the interest of his charge. That is the calculating truth. He can only be so far removed from the careful image he presents to those who would long to know him beyond the tastes of his dishes. At some point, steps will be taken to prove to the world how fearsome the new king is even if it is never by his hand. Ignis is willing to play the bloodiest part of it with muted pride. The reliance of the few settles like fine dust over the expanse of the land both new and old. If it is the will of the gods, then he will allow it for now, and no longer. He acquiesces kindly and becomes a daring color. The violent roll of his muscles should be enough.
" I won't detour. You're free to come along. "
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