Dissonance

the first chord - "departure and anxiety"

Royal Palace of Xindin: 168 of Karraien Calender

                Footsteps.

                "Your Majesty, you are not obliged to collect the Fyndanian princess personally," Arventh's advisor trailed behind him. "They are at your whim. It would be perfectly acceptable to send someone - Lady Taneiya, for example, to escort the princess here instead."

                Arventh came to a halt, and the advisor stumbled before bowing his head before the king. Lonce was middle-aged, having combed hair and consistently impeccable clothing. Silk, black robes hung over his broad shoulders, held in place by a trail of jewelled buttons down the front. Arventh stretched out his hand, gesturing for Lonce to raise his head.

                "This was an agreement my father made. Our goal is not to disgrace Fyndan by treating them disrespectfully. I have already called off all marriage ceremonies, and they begrudgingly agreed on a mere contract. At the very least, I owe it to Fyndan to escort my fiancée here."

                Complacently, Lonce murmured an agreement. But before Arventh could turn away, he cleared his throat. "Who – "

                Arventh interrupted, a coy smile forming on his lips. "Rivex will see to any urgent matters of the kingdom in my absence. I should be gone for less than a week."

                Lonce bowed his head in submission as the king walked away in his grandeur.

                Not only did the young, twenty-five year old king exercise his undisputable power, but no one could oppose a character like his. It was unthinkable. He was not charismatic, nor was he at all popular with the opposite sex like his predecessors. They whispered about Arventh being perpetually enveloped by a cloud of gloom. In reality, his principal advantage lay in his unshakable, yet negotiable, manner of decision-making – it was impossible to mislead or manipulate King Arventh in any way. Being confident enough to depart from the palace for an extended period of time was proof enough of the respect he had garnered over the years.

                He understood why Lonce was reluctant about his departure – Rivex Calche was a man born of poor blood, and no one from a prosperous family was humble enough to obey him wholeheartedly. Arventh descended the wide marble steps, and the light pouring from the chandelier gave his skin a golden reflection. As he approached the open doors, Arventh caught sight of the mentioned man leaning comfortably against the king's carriage –despite the chilling stares he received from the palace workers. Dark unkempt hair and scraggy chin aside, Rivex's brilliance was all too obvious in his narrow hazel eyes.

                "You seem awfully excited," Rivex straightened up and for a brief moment, bowed his head in respect.

                Arventh inspected the enormous carriage, complete with scarlet patterns swirling about its body. The horses stood still, as if recognising the new, overpowering presence. The Xindinan flag was erected near the driver's seat, of four scarlet swirls facing each compass direction surrounding a gold lion's head. Rivex cleared his throat, "Have you made accommodations for Princess Alaeca for when you return?"

                "I've talked to the Head Maid," Arventh glanced around him before leaning towards Rivex's ear to speak privately. "Maybe you should try and stop the others from addressing her as a 'Fyndanian princess'. Her name is Alaeca and she's the future queen."

                Rivex flinched at the tone of finality in his words. "They barely respect me. Fyndanians are all light-haired." He gritted his teeth. "So she probably even looks exotic. You're asking for the impossible."