Zyliel was far from what he was used to but Eras didn’t find him entirely off-putting. He seemed direct and to the point, overly serious, but he imagined with that would come a sort of predictability. If he was lucky. Eras could appreciate a certain level of professionalism and he did as Zyliel asked, bringing him the black box from inside the trunk. After, he used the time to organize the rest of the staff that would be tending to the foreigner and his retinue. Eras told them to err on the side of caution and that they seemed a more reserved sort, used to servants that kept out of the way.<br/><br/>“Make it so,” Eras told them before dismissing them, checking next that accommodations were suitable for the welcoming gala. Anything too ostentatious might need to be reimagined. It would be held partially outdoor, underneath a granite overhand with ornately etches pillars. It caught the sea breeze and Eras thought it was a beautiful evening for such things.<br/><br/>“Maybe our gods show you favor because the ocean is calm and quiet, the weather quite agreeable,” Eras informed Zyliel when he’d returned, very nearly time for the foreigner to make his debut. “The King will be late. He prefers to make an entrance, but the Duke will be there. It is not meant to be an insult,” he explained. “Shall we?”<br/><br/>Duke Sarhet stood when Zyliel entered. He’d been sitting at the royal table, appetizers just being passed around, cup of wine in hand. He held it in the air, announcing the Lieutenant with warmth and respect. He had the attention of their many guests, even the ones outside. Everyone was dressed extravagantly in rich colors, less care to modesty. Slaves even less so. Eras, while no less well dressed, appeared to be more covered than most, with only a long expanse of tan skin exposed down the length of his back. His hair had been braided, beaded, and pulled across his shoulder.<br/><br/>“Make room for him and his own,” Sarhet demanded before sitting back down, welcoming them at his table, “and do not let me see any of these weary travelers with an empty cup tonight!” The man was smiling but it got servants and slave alike scrambling. Eras took the bottle of wine calmly, pouring Zyliel a sip to see if he found it agreeable or would like to try something different, or even something more familiar.<br/><br/>“It’s a very mild melon wine. Most foreigners find it the most refreshing and it’s less acidic than some of our others, but if it’s not to your taste I will have something else brought out.” Eras’ words were quiet and informative, not there to get in the way, but to enhance Zyliel’s evening.