[b]"Convenient, don't you think?"[/b]

Xanxus, with his feet resting atop of the table, jested with his arms folded, leaning back in his chair. Unlike Darrian and the soldiers who were stuffing themselves with food and drink after days of feeding on what they called disgusting edible alternatives, he simply kicked back and relaxed. He lacked an appetite at the moment, but whenever a hunger festered within his stomach, he ate enough to feed three men. He watched Darrian with lazy eyes, forgetting just how much his friend loved alcohol. After he was arranged to be wed with Darrian's relative weeks ago with the ceremony to occur in time, he stormed out of the Ylissean palace and refused to reside in the luxurious castle any longer. He already disliked the fact that he was being [i]forced[/i] to marry Darrian's cousin, and his friend's reasoning only made him resent the whole situation even more. [b]"The capital under quarantine from some illness, just as you were preparing to leave. Fairly... [i]coincidental."[/i][/b]

Although Xanxus couldn't quite place his finger on it, something seemed strange about the apparent epidemic that ravaged the capital in sickness just as Darrian was about to return. Its timing just seemed out of place, and for all he knew, Ylisstol had always been clean of illness and never had a history of such. In the midst of his thoughts, the innkeeper wobbled over to their table in a nervous sweat while he held his hands behind his back, slightly bowing in a gesture of 'respect'. The sight of this disgusted him; not because this was a Plegian, but just the gesture itself. [b]"I hope you're enjoying yourselves, good sirs. Do you want a drink?"[/b]

[b]"No,"[/b] Xanxus replied. [b]"I don't drink much."[/b]