The deal was interesting, but Keth was glad when he was finally left in peace.  His own guards entered the rooms provided and gave them a thorough inspection.  He himself wasn’t too terribly worried about ay dangers lurking under the plush cushions or behind thick, expensive drapes, but his men were loyal.  That was why he’d hand chosen the small detail accompanying him, shadowing him everywhere, because he knew exactly who he could trust the most amongst the ranks of his massive army.<br/><br/>One of those men, Rijek, had been with him for the last five years or so.  Kethaias often lost track of time, of people, but he remembered when the man joined Mirnavoda’s forces.  As far from his past life as the self-made king was, he easily saw the loss, the heartache, and the need for direction in that man’s dark eyes the day they first met.<br/><br/>Rijek, as it turned out, had lost his wife and child during some stupid border skirmish between two neighbouring territories not yet Keth’s at the time.  Somehow, the fighting spilled into the small village and left many either dead or badly wounded.  When Mirnavoda’s army finally arrived weeks later to sort out the mess, the warrior king himself in the lead, Rijek was in the streets, looking broken and defeated.<br/><br/>And perhaps some thought him weak for it, but Keth saw a sort of kindred spirit in the man, helped him recover the best he could, and, when their armies returned, brought Rijek home with him. As time went on, Rijek revealed himself to be quiet but witty, a strong fighter but gentle in other aspects of his life.  He had become the closest thing to a friend that Kethaias had, even if he was a guard.<br/><br/>That was perhaps why Rijek was the one grinning ear to ear and quietly laughing every time a new gift came, particularly because he saw how it irritated his king.<br/><br/>“But… what am I supposed to<i>do</i>with it?” the harsh man grumbled, holding the tiny thing at arms’ length and frowning at it.<br/><br/>The response was a chuckled “um” and a shrug.  Then, at last, Rijek couldn’t help himself and replied in earnest.  “Perhaps the young prince thought it was the one thing he could count on you not already having.  I think it suits you.”  A wide smile.<br/><br/>Kethaias rolled his entire head with a loud expelling of air, staring up at the ceiling until the small creature in his hands mewed and started squirming.  Looking toward Rijek, his gaze narrowing, warning the man not to laugh, the king finally put the kitten down on a nearby divan and tried to put it out of his head.<br/><br/>No closer to smiling, but he was much closer to dragging that pompous prince aside, loading his arms with each and every gift, and shoving him back into the hall the next he saw him.<br/><br/>As busy as he’d been, meeting with everyone more interested in the real reason for Keth’s visit, that turned out to be a few days more.<br/><br/>He had just recently bathed when a servant came to announce Ryland’s arrival. It left him looking even less king than before, and also less warrior.  His hair was still damp, despite the vigorous towel drying it received, and he was hardly dressed to be accepting company.  Kethaias never put much stock in the stuffy rules and etiquette that most royals subscribed to, however, so when he stepped into the antechamber in nothing more than tight but comfortable doeskin pants, laces only half done up, and a wide open white linen shirt, he saw nothing indecent about it.  He had as of yet to don anything else more substantial and, if he had no reason to leave the comfort of the rooms provided him, Keth saw no reason to.<br/><br/>He stopped to stare at the prince, who was busy acquainting himself with Kethaias’ personal letters and invites.  There was a longer pause as he let his eyes take in the pleasing sight that Ryland was.  Perhaps he should’ve brought along one of his young and handsome courtesans to help keep him more focused…<br/><br/><i>He’s trying to marry off his daughters.</i><br/><br/>“He’d be wasting his time in that endeavor,” Keth murmured, padding barefoot across the small room to retrieve the kitten, and his claws, from the delicate fabric of a cushioned chair.  He settled the tiny creature down on a minor table where there sat a plate with a bit of fresh fish that had arrived while he was still dressing.  Giving his gifted pet a parting stroke as he turned to face Ryland, he sighed.  There was still no smile to be found, not even the faintest hint of one, and no amusement in his pale eyes.  “And so are you.  I don’t dance,” he informed the prince in stoic fashion, folding his arms over a broad chest.