After a few moments of waiting, it seemed like Vayne was ready to acknowledge him. The man that had been speared to death wasnâ??t something he cared to concentrate on, so he didnâ??t stray his eyes away from the Kingâ??s. Had Vayne interrupted him during some personal time?<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4080bf">â??Nah, its all good.â?</span>he replied, shifting from one knee to sit on the floor with his legs curled in front of him. For a brief moment, he glanced down at his legs, making a bowed shape with his knees and his feet pressed against one another. The thought,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#40ff40"><i>â??Criss-cross apple-sauce!â??</i></span>crossed his mind, causing a grin to spread over his lips. And for just that moment, he might have looked like a child againâ??like the eight year-old that had sat in this very spot, in this very position, looking up at the very same male just years ago. The only difference was that back then, Gandrian was looking at the crowned princess and her older brother. Now, there was only the prince, a king now of his own making.<br/><br/>At the notion that they were to wait for the other officers, the small grin on his lips vanished. It wasnâ??t so much as waiting for them, as he was dreading to see one of them.<br/><br/>Aneolisâ?¦ the<i>Siren</i>.<br/><br/>She wasnâ??t a threat to him nor was she malicious towards him. In all reason, there should be no problem between the two. But her presence was a dark reminder, one that even years havenâ??t erased.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4080bf">â??Do I have to be here for the meeting? If so, there better be cookiesâ?¦â?</span>he mumbled, bowing his head like some spoiled child that was forced to be there without wanting to be.