However, no, Handy was not Happy, Handy was incredibly foul of mood and temperament, getting worse the longer he stayed in the castle. Long nights standing guard in humid drawing rooms and nervous checking of every shadow during his nightly rounds in the guest wing coupled with waking up every, God damn, morning with a thunderous headache which only seemed to be getting worse each day tends not to do any favours for one’s mood. It was all he could do, to not lash out at some poor bastard, so he avoided all conversation. It was the final night of negotiations, allowing for two days for the visiting delegation to relax and enjoy the city before returning home. Handy for one could not wait, having grown incredibly tired of the glares of the ponies and the odd looks from the princesses.