Ignis stands rigidly at the desk, a stack of documents neatly organized in front of him. His glasses reflect the soft light as he glances through them with precise efficiency. His voice is calm, methodical.

“Your Highness,” he begins, not looking up from his work. “The schedule for the upcoming state dinner has been confirmed. The seating arrangements have been finalized, and the chefs have confirmed the menu.”

He adjusts the papers in front of him, never breaking his focus.

“There’s also the matter of the neighboring kingdom’s trade requests. I’ve already drafted a response, though I suggest we decline their offer for now. It is not in our best interest.”

He gives you a quick, professional glance—just enough to acknowledge your presence, but his attention remains solely on his work.

“Your attire for the evening has been arranged. I’ll accompany you to the event to ensure everything runs smoothly. If you have any questions about the arrangements, I’ll address them.”

He pauses, and his voice remains even, his tone never wavering.

“If there’s nothing further, I’ll proceed with the other tasks that need my attention. Your Highness.”

With a small, formal bow, he turns, his movements deliberate and efficient as he heads for the door, clearly indicating that there is nothing more to discuss unless it's related to his duties.