<span style="font-family: Old English Text MT;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #0040FF"><span style="text-decoration: underline">King Trystan</span></span></span></div></span><br/><br/>Amaltheia was one of the few people allotted with the privilege of calling Trystan by his first name. They'd known each other since they were mere children, and even though her brother's had too, she was closer to Trystan's age, therefore they'd clicked more as friends than her relationship with the other two.<br/><br/>Upon hearing that his brothers were well, he visibly relaxed a bit. He took a sip of his tea whilst he mulled over the situations between the two. If he knew his brothers, Ramsey wouldn't strike unless provoked, and Alexander would be the first to make a move because of that temper of his. If he had to choose on which one Alexander would strike at first, he would choose Ramsey because he'd then be able to cut off food supply. It wouldn't be that hard for him to receive food should he do that, however. They had the sea which was abundant in fish for them to eat, and if they had to, they could import the things that Alderion offered from the trading posts across the seas.<br/><br/><span style="color: #0040FF">"I did have trouble sleeping..." </span>he admitted,<span style="color: #0040FF">"And I am alright for now. Just had a lot on my mind. It's been quiet for some time now, and if I know my little brother as well as I think I do, that screams trouble. At least when we were children, silence meant he was doing something he wasn't supposed to be."</span>He told her as he took another drink of tea.<br/><br/><span style="color: #0040FF">"What are the current reports with the guard?"</span>He asked wishing to know what the numbers were like and what they were doing.<br/><br/><a href="//www.creativefreedomrpg.com/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&amp;u=111606">@Rethwyn</a><br/><br/><span style="font-family: Edwardian Script ITC;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #00FFFF"><span style="text-decoration: underline">Seraphina Octavia </span></span></span></div></span><br/><br/>Seraphina stumbled when she was walked into, and turned. She offered a sheepish smile feeling that she'd been in the way. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to come here... It seemed she was agitating everyone around and causing a disruption. The people at the other stands around were beginning to give her looks for setting up in another, familiar merchant's stand, and they were also waiting to see if a fight would break out.<br/><br/><span style="color: #00FFFF">"O-oh...I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to get in the way..." </span>she spoke to Micheal before turning to the woman harassing her,<span style="color: #00FFFF">"Look, I just want to sell my wares the same as you do, and this stand wasn't reserved for anyone."</span><br/><br/>The woman glared still not happy about having her spot taken. "I set up here every day. And I haven't ever seen you around these parts, get back to the lower half of town where the common filth belongs."<br/><br/><a href="//www.creativefreedomrpg.com/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&amp;u=111159">@Blackmarket Salesman</a>