He could hardly believe what he was witnessing, even less what he was hearing.  He’d labeled Ryland as feisty, but he was more than just that. Yes, he was observant, even if that was for his own entertaining and to use it to his benefit later.  He was bold and carefree, but with enough strength to carry through with the consequences.  The prince also didn’t shrink in the face of adversity, even violence directed toward himself.  Kethaias… was not used to that, and it was unsettling.<br/><br/>Worse yet was Ryland’s assessment of him.  It wouldn’t have struck as deeply as it had, shouldn’t have, but it felt too much like truth to be able to defend.  In that moment, he had few options.  He could take Ryland up on his offer, try to…<i>work the prince out of his ravings</i>, as suggestion.  Or, he could rant some more and ultimately throw the snide and pretty thing out on his ass.  While sex had some kind of reward system working in its favour, the want for physical intimacy was far from the warrior king’s mind.  It was hard to think of anything, really, thanks to Ryland and his attractive face staring up at him like that, making that abrasive assessment.<br/><br/>After a few moments of running it all through his head, particularly thinking on his so-called excuses for what he was, or at least what he tried to be, Keth opted for… neither of those options.<br/><br/>He withdrew with no great hurry, and the look that crossed his face was more confusion than anything.  For a king, especially a fierce one that always seemed cross about some random thing or other, Kethaias looked utterly lost.<br/><br/>“I am sick of this,” he commented, though his tone and the quietness of his voice didn’t point to his need to convey those thoughts to anyone other than himself.  There might have been a more glossy appearance to his eyes, which he would’ve firmly denied any resemblance to tears.  He didn’t even look directly at Ryland, more so just around the room, even the mess he’d made.  A deep breath preceded an even wispier utterance.  “All of this.”<br/><br/>There had been more than one occasion throughout his rise and subsequent domination of his land where he’d been labelled as mad.  He was sure that this one would go down as one of those moments that spawned rumours, even if it only happened to be amongst the royal family or servants of Banque.  It was the hushed whisper that was often muffled by something more ferocious.  But Kethaias didn’t look nor feel very ferocious at that moment.<br/><br/>“Leave me, Ryland,” he sighed.  And that was the best option, wasn’t it?  Ryland was hardly to blame for the unusual bout of obsession Keth had developed out of the blue.  He was still trying to figure out the how’s and the why’s of it all himself, so he couldn’t exactly explain it.  The wisest thing to do was walk away and let that strange longing decay, like everything else.  “Leave me to my misery before it taints you.  Forget all of this as quickly as you can.  Cancel your party, if you must.  I will make arrangements to hurry through the rest of these negotiations as quickly as possible.”