Leid watched from the corner of his eye as a new pair entered the room, although his accomplice at the doorway afforded them only a quick once-over. Their presence didn't particularly interest him but he did still enjoy playing the 'guess who' game that all courtiers inevitably succumbed to. Whatever their business was, they carried it on down at the other end of the room with the guardsman. He imagined that there would be plenty of people trying to get messages to the king before the big day when his schedule became even more of an intangible knot of appointments and ceremonies. A realization struck him, and his attention was abruptly called back to the conversation that he had started. The boy had uncovered his head to speak, at the very least. Uncharacteristically, Karl took a moment to think over his words in response, he hadn't anticipated any kind of measured response to his musings about the throne. "Now more than ever. I served this court, a few years, it didn't end well but if I learned one thing it's that this whole damn country thrives on chaos. Everyone in the court is out to get something different and they'd gladly put a knife in your back, figuratively, usually, to get it. The king's probably got a book of debts and dues bigger than his book of laws. And now kings drop like flies and I'm of the camp that says its the stress." He shrugged his shoulders, wrapping up his mopey complaint against the crown with another look at the throne. He hadn't heard a word of Bard II yet, save that he'd finally been crowned after a long line of fiascoes with his nobles and his inheritance. There was no sense of expectation, strangely. As a small player he'd gotten used to watching heads of state come and go. That career had continued until one day when he found the main event of his night to be chatting it up with people in empty throne rooms while enjoying the privileges of former employment.