He sat at the table, straight-backed and straight-faced, the polite chatter of this new royal family something between charming and annoying.  If it hadn’t been for the long voyage there, Kethaias might’ve been in higher spirits.  It wasn’t like he’d come to Banque to destroy or overtake the tiny kingdom, so he wasn’t really in the right mindset to be a<i>complete</i>ass, but he hadn’t actually been what anyone would call gracious or benevolent in years.<br/><br/>The half elven king actually cut quite an intimidating image, his leather armour snug against tone muscle, a bright silver sword earned from one of his conquests hanging at his hip.  He was taller than most, though every movement he made also held a sort of grace, despite his size.  The larger build he owed to his human father, the man a giant of a warrior built of solid steel in his prime. His mother’s bloodline gave him the grace, the grace of the elves. His eyes reflected that, too. They were an unusual shade of violet, sometimes seeming pale and more purple than anything, and other times appearing intensely dark and blue. Of course his mother’s hair had been fiery red, and he most definitely did not have that. No, his hair was black as coal, long, straight, and added a sort of darkness to his image in general. Not that he needed any help in that area.  When he’d arrived, it hadn’t really been clear that he wasn’t there on some quest involving battle.  There certainly was no doubt why he was called the Warrior King.<br/><br/>What had brought him there was little more than proximity; he’d been expanding his own kingdom, now more an empire, for some time and had never bothered the small, less noticeable area.  They had their fair share of wealth, but they didn’t actively seek out trouble, nor did their laws or policies offend Keth’s own morals, at least none that he had discovered.  Because they were peaceful and didn’t trade children or some other nonsense, he’d always just let them be.<br/><br/>The problem with a growing empire, unfortunately, was the abundance of enemies ready to pound against his boarders.  Banque happened to be right along one edge, and while he had no reason to believe that the adorable little nation would try to rise up against him (really, the thought was laughable at best), he saw it as a weak point which other, more sinister forces might seek to secure for themselves.  Some form of allegiance needed to be gained, as well as ambassadors from both sides, and a route of communication set up, else he’d start losing sleep.<br/><br/>Meeting the royal family was tedious, but necessary.  One of the princes seemed to be missing, the youngest of them all, but an excuse was delivered with such ease that it seemed all too well practiced.  Kethaias was good at reading people, and so the other faces around the table told the truth of the tale; the young prince was spoiled, headstrong, and completely without shame.<br/><br/>Their initial meeting was coming to a close when he started hearing noises from just outside.  It was apparently too dull in the beginning for those very human ears situated all around him to hear, but his own hearing was far keener than that, natural ability aided by ingrained instinct. Two male voices, a gasp or two that came across too heavily.  Someone was having fun in a very inappropriate space.  That was only proven in the most vivid way imaginable when one of the guards investigated a noise, now louder, and found a rather clumsy, mussed prince hiding behind a door.  His own guards were at the ready, determined to protect their king against whatever poorly constructed attempt this might’ve been to assassinate him.  Kethaias, meanwhile, remained calm and indifferent to the whole situation.<br/><br/>It was painfully obvious to everyone there, including Kethaias (though he’d already known well in advance, what had been transpiring right up until that very moment, but no one seemed to want to comment on it.  Instead, it was business as usual, all smiling faces and niceties.<br/><br/>Gods, he hated it.<br/><br/>Politics were never his strong suit, but they were necessary.  In this case, being somewhat lenient with the prince was in order to keep things between him and these softer royals pleasant enough to eventually come to an agreement.  Still, it wasn’t like he couldn’t strong arm them into something satisfactory…<br/><br/>It wasn’t hard to see his irritation as the pompous prince made his greeting.  When was the last time someone dared to be so informal, regardless of intent?  Before he’d taken up his father’s sword, probably.  Keth’s eyes narrowed as he calculated what he could and could not get away with under current circumstances, and finally decided that he’d relent.  Besides, keeping the royal family on edge, knowing that he was displeased, would work out to his benefit; they’d agree to nearly anything to keep him and his armies from laying waste to their precious little kingdom.<br/><br/>“You’ll do,” was all he said, rising to his feet and letting a hand settle to the natural position against his sword.  The offered arm he ignored entirely.  It was either this hot little princeling or some sniveling servant who wouldn’t look him in the eye, and he’d take arrogance over cowardice any day.  “Unless you have to get back to the man who you were meeting with just now,” he finally added, his pale gaze locked unyieldingly on the blond.