While they stood there waiting, Kethaias was not deaf to the distant shouting.  His sharp ears picked up the sound, even if he couldn’t make out all the words.  An army marching through was bound to cause panic.  That was why he kept where he was instead of charging blindly ahead.  They still didn’t have enough information to make a rash move, and he was beginning to get the sinking feeling he’d been called away from something very important for the fickle wants of Banque’s most beloved brat.<br/><br/>He saw someone from above staring down at them.  The angle wasn’t the best, the walls high enough, but considering he felt like the fires of the underworld were being wished on him in full, he was fairly certain it was Gharreld.<br/><br/>Was there laughter?  It sounded like Ryland.<br/><br/>The gate began to open soon after, and he signaled for his men to stay ready but calm.  The scene that opened up caused confusion.  Instead of armed troops there were decorations.  A celebration…?<i>A wedding.</i>But whose wedding?  Hadn’t Gharreld already taken a bride?  Keth then thought to the note.<br/><br/><i>You had better come make good on this.</i><br/><br/>But that wasn’t a straightforward proposal, and either way it wouldn’t have suited Ryland at all.  It was entirely possible that Ryland had been pushed into a corner and would rather choose the Warrior King over the other suitors.  Not that Kethaias was much flattered over the thought.<br/><br/>Sure enough, he saw the royal banner coupled with another.  It was a familiar design, but he couldn’t place it.  Another kingdom in the area?  It didn’t seem regal.<br/><br/>He signaled to his men.  Rijek and a half a dozen others came with him, the others held back.<br/><br/>Ryland was there as he stepped forward, and the little idiot seemed so pleased to see him.<i>Demanded</i>the ear cuff.  This really was it, wasn’t it?  Kethaias had stopped dead in the midst of battle, rounded up so many men, and travelled all the way to Banque because Ryland was trying to get out of his marriage arrangement.  It would’ve been hilarious if he wasn’t worried about the continuing battles along his borders, or that Zeph was back home waiting on word from him, or if he didn’t have the proof of his own battling carved into his body, burning and aching.  When he looked at the prince, it wasn’t joy or relief in his eyes.  It was quiet rage.<br/><br/>He pushed past Ryland and into the courtyard without a word, his men following and ready to act.  The day must have been soon, though preparations were still being made.  Keth couldn’t stop staring at the familiar banner.  His mind picked at everything he could remember from his short visit there, all the scrolls and books, existing trade routes and wealthy merchants.<br/><br/>“Teleyard,” he finally remembered out loud in a voice raspier than the prince would’ve remembered.  It clicked into place that easily, and he wasn’t sure whether he was more angry or amused.  The man was a bastard, but then what else did Ryland expect to get when he likely refused everything else paraded in front of him?  He could've had someone lovely, someone<i>nice</i>, at least. Instead, he got left with the scheming Teleyard.  Well, it was nice to have proof that Ryland thought more of him than that levereter, anyway.<br/><br/>“I thought there might’ve been something else,” he admitted, and was confused when he realized that finding no real threat there left him disappointed.  While Ryland might’ve been alive and well, he was still throwing his weight around, fussing and fighting to get his way.  Kethaias turned to face the youngest royal again, frowning.  “I thought you were in serious trouble.  I brought…” he began, motioning toward the gate where the rest of his men waited for his orders, then just let it go.  Ryland would’ve seen them, already.  He just didn’t think anything of it.  He didn’t<i>care</i>what Kethaias had done or what he’d had to put off to come all the way there at his call.<br/><br/>“You don’t want to marry me, Ryland,” he finally said, weary steps taking him closer to the prince once more.  “Only you don’t want to marry<i>him</i>,” a motion to the banner, “more.  You should have accepted before, when I was in your brother’s favour.  Back then he seemed all too willing to pawn you off on me.”<br/><br/>He didn’t say anything further.  He could feel the oppressive hate of someone nearing, and he could only assume it was Gharreld, Teleyard, or both.  Either way, he had his men with him, and it was unlikely that hostile actions would be taken unless he himself acted.