With Théadan pointing out all they had been through together to reach the very moment they were about to experience, Navia could do little more than smile up at him and nod. She wanted to pull him into a kiss, to express all the love for him she felt when looking back on all the trials their dedication to each other had had gotten them through. It was not the time though; Behuut was typically standoffish and was likely counting the seconds until he could announce their arrival. She had seen the look he had given Théadan as well; his already thin patience was probably thinner with a Mes’Mo’Tanian in his midst. Too bad for him, Navia thought wryly, but he would get used to it. “Together,” Navia said softly to Théadan with a smile, knowing how much such a word meant to the both of them, “In all things, together.” And with that, Navia turned back to tell Behuut they were ready, only to gasp at the last second. “I almost forgot,” she grimaced at thinking of how uncouth of her it would have been if she had, “Behuut, please introduce me as a Thakur.”<br/><br/>The man spared a moment to turn slowly and look back at her, a brow raised in silent question of whether that was what she really wanted. Navia merely nodded though, knowing full well what she was doing. It would be a public declaration that she had moved on from Devam and while that was likely to be acceptable for most any widow to do, her husband had been one of the most famous in Khlurios and Navia knew there would be some who would not agree with her choice. No further emotion from Behuut came however, and he dutifully pushed both doors open. A pair of guards dressed identically to those outside were prepared to open the doors fully and stand on either side of them, revealing the grandeur of the throne room within. Where Nygaard’s throne room had been long and understandably cold, Mandira’s was bright, warm, and wider than it was long. The room itself was nearly three stories in height, with the walls of the first story covered in tapestries depicting various moments in Khluri history. The second was full of gorgeous tile work done in golds and reds that matched the ceiling and the third was purely made of more curve-topped windows surrounded by detailed architectural designs.<br/><br/>Hanging from the ceiling were more impressively built chandeliers, helping to scatter the light coming in from the windows to brighten the room. Floors done in white marble, the room was nearly devoid of furniture save for the golden throne in the center of the back of the room. It was raised from the floor, built on a platform a few feet from the ground with stairs leading up to it. Instead of a single chair present on the throne, there was a bright red sofa placed there where the king could lounge if he so wished. It was empty however, for the king stood at the base of the stairs with two men on either side of him as the herald stepped into the room and to the side, revealing Théadan and Navia to the three men and the throng of silent, wide-eyed nobles that lined the side walls of the throne room to witness the return of the lost<i>Sitvati</i>.<br/><br/>“Announcing her highness, Duchess Navia Kesari Thakur of Mandira,” Behuut began and as he went on, Navia gave Théadan’s hand a small squeeze to silently let him know they needed to step forward, “Daughter of Prince Yousef I and Princess Niemah, may they rest, Granddaughter of King Kazim I, may he rest, Niece of King Kazim II, may he rest, and Cousin of King Kazim III, mighty may he reign.” There was a pause in Behuut’s speech as no one in the room moved and every eye was on the pair of them. It was as Behuut continued that one of the men at the base of the throne started forward. “She is accompanied by Prince Théadan Rúl, visiting from the northern country of Mes’Mo’Tan.”<br/><br/>She did not hear the herald state Théadan was visiting or Navia likely would have taken the time to correct him, but she was so entirely focused on the man striding forward. He was a bit taller than Théadan’s height, trim in an elaborate red and navy<i>baghani</i>, the traditionally long and embroidered style of shirt Khluri men wore. His<i>larta </i>pants were thin and cream-colored, his<i>khussas </i>navy and his grooming impeccable. His black hair was combed to one side, his beard trim. He had the same bronzed skin as the woman he approached, the same dark eyes, the same slender straight nose. His features were obviously similar though more masculine, obviously related, and he looked upon Navia with a mixture of relief and what almost looked like regret before he swept his arms out to embrace her, “Navia.”<br/><br/>She gave Théadan’s hand one quick squeeze before letting go. It would be a small act that she would regret for weeks to come. “Yousef,” Navia answered with similar relief in her voice, closing the gap between them with a few quick steps before she flung her arms around her older brother’s neck for a reunion she had dreamt of since the day she had been taken from her home. She closed her eyes to relish the simple comfort that came from such a familiar familial embrace as Yousef hugged her tightly, easily lifting her from the floor. He said nothing else and Navia would have thought nothing of it until she felt him beginning to pivot. Eyes opening, Navia was able to see Kazim storming toward Théadan. He too shared looks with his cousins, though he was a couple inches shorter than his advisor-cousin and broader in the shoulders. Kazim's hair was also shorter than Yousef's and he was clean-shaven. He was dressed from head to toe in gold, his<i>baghani </i>elaborately detailed with embroidery and his<i>lartas </i>white. A gold and red shawl was affixed on one of his shoulders and three strings of pearls were looped across his chest, buckled to his<i>baghani </i>at each shoulder.<br/><br/>It was the fury in her cousin’s eyes that alarmed her most as he approached, as well as the fact it was not focused on her. As Navia started to pull away from her brother and his arms tightened around her back, she realized just whom that ferocity was about to unleashed upon. Before he even spoke, Kazim lifted a single hand and snapped his fingers, causing Navia to immediately twist in Yousef’s hold, her voice distressed, “Kazim—don’t—“ When Yousef did not let go, she looked to him in confusion and saw the relief was gone and the regret remained as he shook his head at her, silently letting her know he would not be releasing her. He had used their relationship and the comfort of seeing each other again against her. "Yousef, put me down," Navia demanded angrily, hands shoving at her unyielding brother, "He doesn't understand. Kazim, you don't understand!" She would explain and they would stop, but her damned brother had to let her go and Kazim had to be halted in order for that to happen.<br/><br/>“How dare you!” His voice boomed through the room as Kazim stormed past his cousins, ignoring Navia completely with his hatred pinpointed on Théadan, “How dare you step foot in my country! In my home! You, who helped lay waste to our country, who helped bring about the destruction of our greatest general! You are not welcome on Khluri soil!” As he spoke, the guards from the doors wordlessly stepped forward and each took ahold of Théadan’s arms, locking him in one place as the king approached and used both hands to give Théadan a single hard shove.