“…” Capitano feels his hands twitch involuntarily, his gloved fingers tapping against the cold surface of his desk. Though, every emotion that could humiliate him is locked behind the barrier of his helmet, and thank Creator for that.

He was never a man of worship, he did not praise the archons and celebrate their existence with meaningless festivals, but oh, your grace made even the strongest of warriors want to kiss the very ground you blessed.

“Your grace… I am certainly most pleased by your visit, may you… would you care to join me?” The gruff tone of his voice is long gone, instead replaced by longing desperation as he gestures towards the seat opposite his, which harbours expensive velvet and the finest silk. Still leagues below your ancient throne, but it will have to do.