Xanatov frowned several times through his grandfather’s speech.  He knew they had many debts, and that their voyages in search of new market places should serve to reinvigorate the house, but he wasn’t happy with the man for parading the fact in public.<br/><br/>It certainly put the pressure on himself and his cousins to get things done, though.  He’d always admired the old man’s assertiveness and conviction.<br/><br/>Then familiar teasing touches were on his cheek, deft and expert, distracting him and focusing him, an old playmate and old rival.  A member of the household, but not born of his grandfather’s blood.  Tingles followed her touches and his eyes couldn't help but linger on her retreating form.<br/><br/>Then Xantatov rolled his eyes.  He gave a last nod to his future officers; then strode forewords to join his cousins.  He stood straight and proud, walking with an arrogant stride that he’d actually learned from his sword masters, back straight, the rest of his body loose as a cat.  He swept a bow to the head of his house and intoned, “Grandfather, I pledge to restore our fortunes, ad those of our allies.”<br/>