There had been no other indication that the two towering and elegant doors had parted, except for the movement that Siravii caught in his periphery. The desh stood elegantly and effortlessly, as if somehow he bore no weight, and clasped his hands loosely in front of him. One by one, Siravii and the desh’s advisory staff rose to their feet, and to his credit Siravii only heard the paygan make a diminutive noise of disdain in the back of his throat when the desh bowed his head in respect. His long silvering hair, a testament to the blonde he’d inherited from his mother before his age had begun to creep in on him, tumbled over his shoulders before he picked his head back up. A polite smile pulled at the corners of Aloth’s lips at her sickeningly sweet greeting, and Siravii quietly appreciated his astute grace. He’d never fancied himself part of the upper nobility, and he was quite glad for it. Forced pleasantries and fake smiles had never been at the top of his list of favorite ways to torture himself.<br/><br/>“You’re far too kind,” Aloth complimented, waiting patiently for their hostess and her company to be seated before he presumed to lower himself into the elegant, high-backed chair. He looked considerably at the young light elf, the spitting image of the queen herself, but didn’t let his eyes linger for too long before returning his attention directly across from him and offering an apologetic smile of his own at her assertion. “If only war were so simple.” His lips parted as if to continue, but he quickly thought better of it as the wait-staff descended upon them to lay out an elegant display of food and drink. The desh quietly thanked the servants as they presented his food, a habit that Siravii was still not used to seeing in nobility in spite of how often he’d borne witness to it back home, before nodding to the queen again in gratitude.<br/><br/>When all unnecessary ears had left the room once more, Aloth continued. “I appreciate your willingness to see us on such a short notice, and I feel I must apologize for the hour,” he began, clasping one hand over the other in front of him on the table. From the left, the paygan had already begun to descend upon his meal, and Siravii couldn’t say that he blamed the man. He tentatively picked up an apple slice, briefly wondering whether or not the queen would presume to poison the desh and his staff at the midnight hour, but he was hungry enough to eat it anyway. “But I do believe introductions are in order; I’ve made an addition to my staff since last we met.”<br/><br/>An addition; singular, because Siravii couldn’t technically be considered part of the desh’s cadre. By rights, he shouldn’t even be present in the oratory or eating potentially-poisoned apple slices. He did his best to quiet his crunching as the desh held out a hand to his left. “This is Soma,” he introduced, pointedly not telling them what exactly it was that Soma did for him. He dropped his hand to his lap, and held up his right hand to gesture to Siravii. He looked to Siravii with an intense consideration as he struggled to find the right words. A look of defeat pulled at his features as Siravii watched him decide that no, there was no good way to say what he needed to say. Finally he looked back to his hosts. “And this is Siravii Korsish,” he said at last, dropping his hand back to join the other on his lap. “A prisoner of mine, and the reason I come to you tonight.”<br/><br/>In spite of whether or not anyone was<span style="font-style: italic">actually</span>staring at him, Siravii could still feel the intensity of a thousand eyes on him. Thankfully, Soma was the first to speak up, but it was only to clarify. “An<span style="font-style: italic">escaped</span>prisoner.”<br/><br/>Siravii bit his tongue to stop himself from rebutting that he didn’t fit the ‘escaped’ criteria anymore, seeing as how he was clearly in the possession of the desh himself. Aloth smiled. “Yes, well, I’ve come to talk of diplomacy, not to argue semantics,” he dismissed in Siravii’s favor, without so much as acknowledging Soma with a turn of his head. Instead, he actually showed his advisor the back of his head in favor of looking to his prisoner. “Siravii, can you show them what you showed me?”<br/><br/>Cautiously, Siravii nodded, leaning down slowly to retrieve a bag that he’d rested near his feet. He questioned for a moment whether this was an appropriate time, considering that there were people - namely Naveen - eating, but he supposed that the desh wanted to get to the point before any talk of war could become hostile. He uncinched the top of his bag, reaching in and feeling around until he got a good hold on the sole object that it contained. When he was satisfied with the grip he had, he pulled it out and held it up for their hosts to see before he stood and sat it on the table.<br/><br/>‘It’ was a head, severed though it did not bleed. The skin was thick, pallid and marred, and there were no eyes to speak of. Instead, two pinprick holes bore into each side of the face, something that Siravii could only explain as ears. And from the earholes, the mouth began, stretching the entire width of its face into a grotesque grin. Siravii pulled the top of the head back just so, and the entire top half of its face pulled back to reveal rows of teeth. Hundreds of them, small and pointed and lethal.<br/><br/>“Again, I do apologize for inconveniencing you so late,” Aloth spoke after a moment, the polite smile he bore having dripped out of his expression. “But, as I’m sure you can imagine, I’m quite concerned."