<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #0000BF">Mikale Acantha</span></span></div><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000BF"><span style="font-weight: bold">King Mikale</span></span></div><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="https://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/12/6c/a3/126ca35152b85dd12258d85dd11e7fbc.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><br/>Mikale was furious at Sintrina for leaving in the middle of their discussion. She always had duty to attend to, decisions to make, a country to run--never did she had time for him or their daughter. Their daughter who was out in the middle of the gods know where, in pain, possibly dying--and here Sintrina was answering summons. Ha! And she claimed to love Freya. His fist slammed through a wall as he let out an angry yell.<br/><br/>Why did the woman he love have to be the most infuriating thing on the planet? Why could she just not take a single moment to listen to him? He sat in an overly lush chair, resting his chin on an angry fist as he glared at nothing in particular. He was damn near ready to go out to find Freya himself, but he knew that would cause more problems than solve anything. He wanted to throttle Sintrina, shake sense into her--but he could not. Not without great risk to her, and definitely not without a guaranteed death for him. Over twenty five years of marriage and he still had a fire inside of him for Sintrina. He didn't understand it. He should hate her, despise her really--for everything that had gone on. Especially after Freya's last hunting accident.<br/><br/>But every time they were in the same room together, all he could focus on was her. How beautiful she was, no matter her emotion. How strong she was, how intelligent and cunning she was...Everything was amazing about her--even her cold, distant attitude towards everyone and everything. The few nights they did have together, as those had become rare, were always full of passion and raw need. Even with all the sex slaves he had at his disposal, Sintrina was still better than all of him and she had only become better with age.<br/><br/>Still, he wished she would be softer towards Freya. He knew that she felt Freya's softness was a liability to her own safety, but he did not view it as such. Freya's sudden new willpower and cruelty had been surprising after her hunting accident, but he had always written her frequent mood swings as just a side effect. She had, after all, suffered extensive brain damage and bodily damage. She had almost died and she had been put into a coma. Something that rarely happened. He had been an absolute mess, but Sintrina had faith in their doctors.<br/><br/>When they were alone and had thought Freya was going to die, his wife had been a total and utter mess--it had been the only time he had seen the Queen show any concern for their daughter since she had grown. But, just as he began to lose hope, Sintrina had picked herself up, picked up the pieces of her emotion and put them back in their usual spots. She put on a determined face and left him there waiting in an empty room. She had come back, grabbed him by his shirt and commanded him to,<span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #FFBFBF">"Stand up, damnit! You're a King, not a child! Freya would be disgusted with this display!"</span></span>Her words had been harsh, but her face had been soft and her eyes red from tears already cried. She had told him that Freya would be fine, that they had the best doctors at their disposal. He had been doubtful, but she had seemed confident, almost giddy with more than relief.<br/><br/>And now here they were and she was no where to be found and he was alone.<br/><br/>Just then, two slaves were brought to him. They were recently acquired and both were clearly already drugged. He felt fury rise in his chest. How dare they bring him these slaves at a time like this. He hadn't asked for them!<span style="color: #0000BF">"Bring those back to their room, I haven't called for them. Is someone playing games with me?"</span>he snarled out. Aza was near him when he had demanded they be sent back, and she reached out desperately for him--the drugs causing her to want to please him. The guards pulled her away and she moaned in obvious frustration. He felt nothing, though, as the two were dragged back out. An apology was given and he only scoffed.