"Milaeus is a very businesslike man. I honestly wonder why he bothers with my country. He disliked my father's love of ceremony and heraldry, so I'm surprised he doesn't mind my own." He pulled out a chair for her at the little parlor table and sat across from her. "I hate to think, however, that you're only here because your father forced you. I hope you find your own enjoyment in being here. It wouldn't do for you to be just a bargaining chip." As the tea was poured, Miguel sat back a bit, and she could already see his guard was falling not only because she was a beautiful woman, but because he'd already judged her, as he always judged quickly, as a calm and unthreatening sort of person. She'd certainly done well to convey such an air.

"I would've thought Milaeus would send you over the mountains to Prince Matthias, he boasts the most land beyond the more wild people who inhabit the mountain kingdom. Then again, no one here on the west side is on good terms with those ruffians in the peaks."