Alva
*A brief frown crossed his face as she called his words well-crafted. As craftsmen went, he doubted he was particularly good, but perhaps the finer points of subtlety wouldn't have been able to drive home their meaning as well as bluntness in the presence of the king of Gantrick. Still, he could have done better, he thought - there was no reason to offend people where he could avoid it.* 

"There is room for improvement, certainly." *His voice was soft, the low bass filling the space of the study even at a small volume.* "If he only hears a subset of what I say, I should try to tailor my words to fit that subset when speaking with him. The art of communication is a difficult one to learn, but ultimately I must learn it. It is a most useful tool to use in ruling."

"I must protest, Your Highness." *He shook his head as she spoke of his lack of engagement in war. That he knew well - and here she showed her own lack of experience in such spheres.* "There are soldiers and there are soldiers. I did not call the man a warrior - such men as I compared him to are only soldiers by happenstance of their profession." *They were unprepared for war, he thought - like bullies in a schoolyard being confronted with a knight in armor, they stood little chance on the battlefield until they were able to change with experience.*

"He has very little reason to trust, yes." *He agreed, a small nod accompanying the statement.* "As do I. As do we all - yet there is a marked difference between an unwillingness to trust and a strange tilt to what we propose. One doesn't simply march armies into a research center, and none at the table proposed it. It is an imagined enemy that he fights against, and he does not seem to grasp what we really are, in my estimation." *A small pause followed the statement as he squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to wipe his mind of that particular topic.* "Let us hope for the sake of the people of Gantrick and the world that he begins to grow."

_ _
*So many eddies in the current of politics tugged and swayed them one way or the other. His hands, resting upon the armrests of the oaken chair, felt almost leaden with exhaustion - and yet there were still letters to be written, seals to be affixed, places to go, people to see. It was nearly as grueling as his basic training had been physically, and more mentally draining than writing his dissertation. At least with various alloys, there was a definite, measurable result that could be attained and measured. With people, you never knew what impurities were present. Some escaped the eye entirely.

He wondered what was behind the veil of the princess sitting across from him. She seemed educated enough in the political sphere to be hiding many truths behind clever omissions.*

"...Important criteria, yes." *His eyes strayed for a moment to the fireplace before making their way back to her.* "It is imperative to see that they are followed. I *Will* Have someone who follows them, one way or another." *That should have been evident the first time, he thought - but what she had implied perhaps he did not grasp, this time around. In any case, it was a finished point.* 

"The political choices of your own family?" *He asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. She had scarcely revealed much about her family to him yet - and perhaps this was an avenue into discussion her situation instead of his. He had laid much on the table, but he had yet to see similar levels of investment from her.* "Are there any choices in particular you might be speaking about?"
Virginia
Room for improvement was an apt way to put it. It was not as though the King could not carry himself appropriately in most situations. Rather, there were certain nuances that could be lost on a less trained ear. While she had spent years listening and reading about the art of conversation, he had learned the way of the sword. The pen is mightier than the sword, some say. However, in this case they would need command of both to succeed. 

Her gaze contemplated the man's willingness to learn and listen. It was rare, in her experience, to find one with power so willing to hear and heed the expertise of another. While it might have been easy to cite a respect for elders, functionally, she supposed her age was not that much greater than his. While quantitatively her years were greater, in experiences they were about equal. He would need to learn command of the court as he had the battlefield. 

There were the obvious details that set the two settings apart. However, more nuanced similarities existed still if one looked. As far as she was aware, a General would hold council with his trusted advisors, men he believed capable of providing truthful feedback and executing direction. Leaders with whom he could recount a day of battle with and share observations with the goal of moving towards victory. Why should his command of his kingdom be any different?

"If I may, Your Majesty," She began, hands sliding down to rest atop her lap. "How frequently do you share your interpretations of such conversations with those whose feedback you trust?" Whether he would take the next step in connecting her question to a course of action would be seen.

As he spoke more on the nature of the Gantrick King, she became more resolved in the idea that these two men had crossed paths on many occasions before this one. Perhaps the example of battle was not one she should have used. After all, of those present she would always defer to his knowledge of such areas. For that reason she did not

Speak further on the matter of the Bear King, trusting that in time she might witness that which Astalios had. 

Then came the moment, the crack in the door that might allow a cool draft to ebb the fervent flames of the fireplace keeping them comfortable thus far. Finally he asked about her family and position. There was so much she hoped to one day say, if not to him then to *Someone* Worth trusting. For now, however, she would have to tread lightly. 

"Well," She began, pulling her bottom lip below the top for a moment before rubbing them together in thought. At the same moment her eyes once again caught a fascinating grain of strong oak on the table separating them. He had already been open and forthcoming as far as she was aware that it should have been easy enough. It was not as though she wished to keep secrets from him. In fact, the opposite might have been true. That did not make the words any less troubling. The bond of family was one she found transcended many realms of logic and reason. 

Her eyes found his once more after the brief pause, calm returning to her features. "I am sure you are aware that my father much prefers to deal with internal matters of state to international ones." For a moment, a soft smile tugged at her lips as her chest filled with pride. "Our people love him and he is a good, kind man." A small sigh deflated her lungs and smile. 

"I just wish he could see what I have, know the importance of, well of," A hand motioned between the two conversationalists just over the table, "Of this." Her shoulders slumped further as the next thought came. "And you have met my sister."
Alva
*She seemed to accept what he had said fairly cleanly, which was for the best, he thought - on the whole, it was entirely too tiring to keep going back and forth about the political matters of the day when they had run over them once or twice already. Why could it never be scientific discussions he had anymore? He had been happy enough to do his research, speak with the researchers that had come to the front, and conduct his experiments during the winter seasons when armies did not often march.

Those were good days, he thought - when even during the war no lives were being spent, no raiders descending from the border to prey upon the villagers of Alynthi or attack the border fortifications, no soldiers spent in their efforts to wipe out the tribes that had plagued them so. Snow fell, fires roared, and he was able to rest and recuperate from the days of fighting in battlefields that he had grown up on. Writing letters back home to his sister and parents by the firelight. It was somber, still, but warm.*

"How frequently?" *He asked, snapping out of his remembrance with a few blinks of the eye in confusion. He supposed he had met with his generals at least once a day - more as the situation demanded it.* "Daily. More than daily, really - I intend to be advised whenever I am in need of advisory. I suppose I keep advisors on hand - and they have been most instructive in political matters. I thought the transformation of the throne into the plain chair and the removal of my armor were moves that rather pleased them, though I am proud to say they were my own idea."

*Whatever did she mean, asking him about how often he was advised? Perhaps she thought to gauge his willingness to listen, though from her words she already believed him a good listener for a king. What did **That** Mean, anyway? It wasn't as if kings needed closed ears for the position - nor did good ones proceed without advice. Kings kept their own counsel, but heard all. Was that not right?*

_ _
"Yes, I have been meaning to speak with His Majesty for some time." *He nodded in agreement as she discussed her father's willingness to stay within Thyseer. The man was isolating himself in the sphere of international politics, secluded in his own world. A good, kind man he might be, but Astalios would have to speak with him eventually - no longer could he deal with princesses, whose power was not absolute.*

"We may be able to solve that problem from my end, however. I should think it can be resolved with a little convincing and perhaps tea." *He remarked. Tea with Galinheiros seemed like a frivolous matter on the surface, but it was a way to get the man to the table, which he needed badly. If the letter he had sent to every nation in the world had not summoned the man, he doubted any other official communiques would.

Then there was the matter of Delsandra.

He had indeed met Irezora's sister - and frankly, she disturbed him. She was a woman whose every action seemed to hint at the hinges coming loose. Bring back Lysanthir, she said, immediately after the man had been accosting his Grand Mistress, and she had been panicking. The inner machinations of the woman's mind were alien to him, in the worst ways he could think of.* 

"...I **Have** Met Delsandra." *He gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw. A muscle in his cheek tensed as he tried to form the next words.* "Her demeanor is concerning. I hope that it is not too offensive to hear, but I am not quite comfortable with her in many circumstances. She has been a handful thus far."