Suddenly sitting inside a conference chamber with his advisors to discuss important matters didn’t seem as intimidating anymore, compared to what he had to face soon. He knew one day he’d have to marry, but now that a deal had actually been pronounced and signed by both him and the Rozarrian Emperor, nervousness robbed him sleep and calm.
He knew he lacked the right means to ensure the marriage was going to be smooth and fruitful. All the isolation and properness hadn’t been helpful in regards to his skills as a spouse, and that when the princess he was to wed was Rozarrian, who were known for their interesting practises when it came to love. It was too embarrassing to mention however, he was certain Basch had other troubles rather than listen to Larsa confess he feared he might not be able to please his wife the way he should.
In fact, that was the most important part of the marriage, seeing an Archadian-Rozarrian child would truly solidify the new union and make certain peace was going to last, hopefully for generations to come.
He was seated on a chair by the table as he watched his advisor Ilvaire discuss matters with lord Al-Cid, who happened to be the cousin of his bride-to-be. Larsa listened to their respective arguments, enjoying the banter between them, seeing Al-Cid was usually quite adept at calming agitation whereas Ilvaire was known to be quite choleric. More than once had he exploded during a talk with Larsa, and he had apologized immediately afterwards, with fear in his voice that upset Larsa. He didn’t want his advisors to fear him, there was no reason to and he had believed, that much was clear.
Eventually he silenced the lord with a raise of his gloved hand. “It has gotten late, my lords. We ought to end the discussion now and allow everyone to retreat for the night.” The advisors bowed their heads and rose, murmuring with each other all the way out. “Lord Al-Cid, would you like to join me for a cup of tea in the gardens?” The usual place, beneath the archs of leaves, decorated with roses.
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