He wondered what that captured lip was about, wondered too if his actions were seen as too forward to these people.  There were cultures or branches of society therein that very well might have seen an innocent kiss to a hand as scandalous, but Ryland’s carefree actions with his<i>friends</i>had hinted that this was not one of them.  Perhaps it was the company to his back that made Kethaias think too hard on it, because he could not as easily see their reactions, only the “slutty” prince’s, which was interesting.<br/><br/>As if to make up for the previous night’s debacle, Ryland invited him out again.  Keth himself was fine with it, until that little stipulation came to light.  A place where the prince felt the need to disguise himself?  Kethaias was, if nothing else, a strategist, and his mind began going over the myriad of reasons that might be.  It might have been something disreputable, though the carefree prince didn’t seem to care too awful much about his image.  There was the possibility that he didn’t want to be seen in public with the vicious Warrior King, too.  Most of all, Kethaias worried that it was some sort of plot to discredit him.  If he was found to be unworthy, a scoundrel, then no one in the royal family would approve of marrying off their youngest to the likes of him.<br/><br/>Was it unfair to think the worst?<br/><br/>Was it wise not to?<br/><br/>“I look forward to it,” he replied smoothly.  If nothing else, he did have the benefit of claiming ignorance.  How was a foreigner supposed to know where and where not to visit?  It could all be chalked up to some silly misunderstanding, if that ended up being the case.<br/><br/>Kethaias found himself hoping it wasn’t.  As much as he had already discovered about Ryland’s ability to cut deep, he wanted to believe the apology given.  He wanted to believe that the prince was only young and a little reckless, a little too bold, not some gorgeous monster ready to strike him down.  Maybe it was the way the light reflected in those pretty eyes, or maybe it was the way a soft, golden curl swept behind the gentle but masculine curve of his jaw, but he found Ryland absolutely breathtaking in that moment.  If the royal family wasn’t there, not to mention at least a handful of servants finishing up their tasks… if they were<i>alone</i>, Kethaias might have even dared to try for a more affectionate kiss.  It was strange, because he had indeed been left satisfied from his night with that very beautiful<i>Red Lark</i>, but this was where attraction truly lied.<br/><br/>“Tonight, then,” he said in parting, his right hand reaching up to have his fingers tap lightly on his chest.  It was an old custom, one that Ryland and his people probably wouldn’t have recognized, and Keth did it more on instinct than anything.<br/><br/>He spun around and did a quick survey, finding that if there was any attention made to their private little meeting in the corner of the room, no one was letting on now.  That was fine with him, because he honestly wasn’t ready to bring up anything about what was or was not going on between the young prince and himself.  The meeting, while dull as always, went quick and touched on the subjects of how adequate the protection to Banque’s utmost distant boarders was, as well as a mutually beneficial trade route.<br/><br/>When the morning session was finished, Kethaias indeed returned to his rooms and decided to rest.  He still wasn’t feeling all that great, certainly not rested, and he didn’t want to fall asleep in the middle of what might have been an enjoyable evening out.  Nor did he want to come across a miserable brute.  While playing that part sometimes worked to his advantage, the king was not so disconnected that he would try to win Ryland over that way.<br/><br/>As soon as dinner and the evening discussions came to a close, he was back in his rooms preparing for the evening.  Much as before, he changed up his attire to suit the need of the situation.  He wasn’t going in armour, or anything too kingly, certainly not a stuffy crown.  Keth decided on a white shirt with full, wide sleeves that tied at the wrists and a formfitting vest of deep teal with scrolling black embroidery.  The high collar was propped up by a carefully tied white scarf that disappeared in delicate folds under the vest.  His jacket matched the vest, though there were broad lapels and cuffs of black velvet.  Not kingly, no, but there was something very aristocratic about it.  If anything, he’d be passed off as another snotty noble out for an evening.<br/><br/>“I’ve never seen you dress so finely for<i>two</i>evenings in a row,” Rijek teased him.  “He must<i>really</i>be something.”<br/><br/>“He’s something, alright,” Keth murmured in response as he finished brushing out his hair.  He’d decided to leave the long black mass untied and free.  Not that it would be seen by anyone, because he then grabbed the black hooded cloak and swung it round over his shoulders.  “Did the mask I requested come?”<br/><br/>“Yes, my king,” Rijek replied, turning to retrieve it.  “While you were dressing.  It isn’t fancy.”<br/><br/>“That’s quite alright.  I’d prefer it be forgettable,” Kethaias admitted, taking the simple black thing and testing it out in the mirror.  “I’m not a peacock, and it’s not a masquerade.  This will do nicely.”  He tucked the thing into his pocket.  There was no need to put it on until they were arriving at the teahouse.<br/><br/>Just then, Kethaias caught his man grinning at his back through the mirror.<br/><br/>“What has you looking so pleased?”<br/><br/>Rijek shook his head.<br/><br/>“What is it?  What do you know?”  A pause.  “Am I going to regret this?”<br/><br/>“Who’s to say, Your Majesty?  You<i>are</i>an unpredictable soul.”<br/><br/>Keth lowered the hood and moved to press the man for more information, but there was a knock on the door.  One of his other guards announced that the prince was there to retrieve him.  A deep breath, and Kethaias went to greet him.