Sovele fed on the gratitude his charge expressed, approving of his reaction to the lifelike marble carving. A small part of him was waiting to hear protest over the gruesome picture it created parading as art, but Basren proved why he was the favorite and reacted just as Sovele wanted him to. His other children had too much imput from their mother. It made them opinionated, and that was fine unless they disagreed with one of the King's own. Basren's influence came primarily from Sovele, as the Queen would have little to do with the boy's raising, and even less so to do with Basren as she started to question whether or not he was sleeping with her husband. She could prove nothing, but it was one of those things a wife just knew.<br/><br/>With the gift well received, Sovele was in a good mood. Enough so that he was happy to listen to Basren's request. It was not so often the young Prince asked for something Sovele was not sure he could provide. Sovele pulled one of the flowers from the vase, to inspect more closely.<br/><br/>"Who brought you these?" Sovele wondered at first before addressing the question. "If they can only be found in the north." Most goods were not traded in from the wasteland, but certainly people were desperate enough to try if it meant trading something inedible for something that they could use. It was a risky sort of business that usually didn't reach the main city, but perhaps someone had heard of Basren's like of pretty things to grow in his garden.<br/><br/>"They would not be a favorite of mine, but I could send someone to buy you a few plants outright, rather than doing a trade." He set the flower down, starting in on the plate Basren had piled for him. "I would advise against it, however. Like the people of the waste, their plants sometimes grow like weeds. Is it's fleeting beauty worth the risk of it taking over what you've already established?" Sovele was hoping to discourage the endeavor all together, using his own bias to try and close that door before it could be explored further. Still, Sovele usual used manipulation rather than Basren ever having to hear the word 'no'. He'd been spoiled, but when he was younger, most things were easy.<br/><br/>"You know that I like those pretty blue things that you grow," Sovele spoke, reaching to pluck the flower from Basren's vest. He brought it to his nose before setting it beside the other discarded flower. He was smiling again, leaning a little closer in a way that could be interpreted as intimate. "They smell better. I think you should fill your garden with more of these."