The humidity here was something that Malak’ai couldn’t get quite used to. After being here for… Gods knows how long, you’d think at some point he’d acclimate. But today was especially warm, and the queen needed the windows open.

The throne room was immaculate, with sparkling white marble on the floors and walls, long gossamer white curtains billowing in the sea breeze. The sound of the waves from below could be heard along with the babbling of the small shallow waterway built into the marble floor, getting slightly deeper and forming a pond where the Caelon throne sat with water lilies drifting aimlessly. It was such an ethereal and serene environment, just as his lady Lai’ena wanted.

Until Anon came in, screeching about taxes.

It took all of the discipline that Malak’ai had in him not to roll his crimson eyes hard enough to pop out of socket and roll down his back into the artificial babbling brook. Whatever murk down there was better to look at anyway than having to see Anon. If only he could do something for his ears as they just. Kept. Talking.

Eventually, his lady cut Anon off but was a lot kinder about it than what he should have been. Silently he prayed thanks to his Goddess for bringing him peace again, hand gripping the hilt of his sword a little tighter. He’d found comfort in his weapons and having a tight grip on the hilt admittedly made him feel more secure. Didn’t have room to not be secure here.

“Advisor Anon, I believe the Queen has an appointment to attend to, does she not?” He sneers, glaring them down as he cuts this ambling conversation off at the head. He looks them up and down as if they were below him. And based on rapport with the queen alone for this long… he kinda was. “Well go on. You wouldn’t want to keep those appointments waiting, no?”