He wasn’t sure why his dress was seen as unworthy, nor why Ryland himself would dress down so much, but he figured it out after they arrived at the teahouse.  It was not exactly what Kethaias had expected, he would admit, but he wasn’t going to back out because of unfamiliarity.  He’d been to many kingdoms and loved to see how things were done in different cultures, so it was only curiosity that he felt as they found their seating.<br/><br/>The moment Ryland was on his lap, the king had a hand on his waist, though it respectably went nowhere else.  It took willpower, especially with the prince’s lips whispering sweetly against his ear throughout to let him in on the jokes, the wordplay involved.  And once the pipe arrived and Ryland fed him that smoke, the simple act holding an erotic edge for Keth, he held absolutely no control over his body’s natural reaction.  Ryland himself didn’t seem to notice, or, if he did, remained silent on the subject.<br/><br/>Poetry continued, though, and it was no surprise to him that Ryland came up, nor that the prince was untroubled by it.  When the subject matter turned to himself, Kethaias did take a longer listen, but he was about as offended of what these people thought of him as Ryland had been.  Their opinions didn’t matter, only those of the royal family and any advisors they might have had.  Besides, if Keth had ever worried about his image, if people thought him a monster or a tyrant (of which he might have been both or neither), he wouldn’t have ever built up such a reputation for being a proud, if not vicious, military leader and king.<br/><br/>He didn’t want to leave the teahouse just then, but that might have had something to do with how he enjoyed the proximity the venue demanded, and his lap felt cold the moment Ryland removed himself from it.  They escaped the teahouse and, while it was more Ryland’s arm hooked onto his, let the prince lead the way to their next activity.  He waited to comment on anything until they were a good distance off from the teahouse itself.<br/><br/>“You were right,” he finally said.  “That<i>was</i>enlightening.  They really don’t hold back, do they?”  He thought about one of the last verses, the one that spoke of his conquering as a way to fill his harem.  Yes, he could be a needy lover, but how many bodies did they think he needed to be satisfied?  Keth didn’t think that he needed to vindicate himself on that one, any of it,and yet…<br/><br/>“I don’t take slaves,” he asserted, though tried to make it sound casual.  “Those that serve me,<i>all</i>of them, do so because they wish.  If one of the fine men from my harem wanted to leave, I wouldn’t forbid it.  I have never had to force anyone to my bed, nor would I ever, in any way.”  Though he was apparently not above paying for it, given the presence of Red in his chambers the previous night.  Something like that was different, a profession, and if the men and women involved didn’t want to sell their bodies, then they simply wouldn’t.  It was logical to him.  “And I only keep a harem because I have no one,” Kethaias admitted, his voice softer, though he wasn’t sure why he would say such a thing at all.  Perhaps it was to assure the prince of what was to be expected if and when (definitely<i>when</i>) they were married.  “Though I did once…” he heard himself say, then bit slightly on his tongue.  Ryland didn’t need to know of that, nor did he think the prince would particularly care about a past romance.<br/><br/>“So, where is your favourite gambling house, then?” he asked in a more upbeat tone.  “We should visit it before the hour grows too late.”