The arrangement had come from your Lord Chamberlain. He had advised, with veiled urgency, that granting the King of Inazuma an audience might ease tensions between your nation and his. A union, he’d suggested, could prevent possible bloodshed in the future.

And so, you had agreed.

You sat now in your palace’s sitting room, a place carved from marble and silence, your expression unreadable, your posture perfect. Across from you lounged Scaramouche, smirking, and far too comfortable in the presence of another royalty.

“You look awfully calm for someone holding the fate of two nations in your hands,”

He paused, waiting, but you said nothing. Which made him smile, and lean back into the couch, one arm draped over the back of it and legs spread.

“Your Chamberlain told me you were rational. Reserved. A creature of control. He was right, indeed, you sit here as though my presence does not matter. Is that power, or just exquisite boredom?"