Darrian listened to the general, having finished his meal and swirling the brandy in his flagon in thought. So, he had met that brother that he claimed was a “bean sprout”. Ah, sprouts were so weak. Sure, they represented a budding life, green and filled with energy. Little sprouts could slip in between cracks of pavement such as cobblestone. Yet... that small, weak life could be ended by a large boot. That was how Xanxus treated his younger brother. However, he did not invite his friend to drink so they could argue. He took another swig from his flagon and sighed. [i]I really want him dead. That one person seems to have guts, and those types must always have their head cut first.[/i]

[b]”Interesting. I wish I had a younger brother. My father did not get my mother with child after myself. Then again, I suppose that I’m lucky. If I had a younger brother, I would have more competition for the throne.”[/b] he sighed, running a hand through his hair and gazing at the ceiling. It even had cracks and he worried that it would collapse on them. [b]”Though, on my current path, I will have just as much competition. Lantus thinks that there will soon be bastards squabbling for position as Exalt. Imagine, Xanxus! Imagine a bastard in my place!”[/b] he laughed loudly, shaking his head and drowning the noise with the brandy. The waitress came over and he asked for whiskey this time.

Though, Lantus’s words of warning moved him, if just a little bit. It was true—if he were to die in battle, the throne would be left to whoever could take it and was of Exalt blood. Darrian didn’t want some [i]nobody[/i] taking it. If he had to give it up to a mellow little bastard, he would rather give it over to Lantus or Xanxus. Maybe he should get married. He didn’t have to love his queen. He could still have concubines, even if he couldn’t use them as much. And, that way, he could train his son or daughter to think like him, act like him. Darrian could die in peace knowing that someone almost as worthy as him was sitting in his place.

[b]”You know,”[/b] Darrian sighed, a troubled look coming across his face as he pulled the lip of the flagon from his mouth. [b]”Lantus wants me to marry. Says that I’m at a risk.”[/b] he placed the cup against his lips again, tipping his head back and downing the rest of the whiskey. He called for another and began to sip at that one. [b]”I guess I can imagine myself in bed with a proper woman of proper blood, giving me a true blooded heir.”[/b] he thought this out loud, looking at his reflection in his drink. [b]”I wonder who it’ll be. I hope it isn’t some arranged marriage with an ugly woman that I’ve never heard of before.”[/b]

---

Ambra smiled at Vellia as she left, but said smile faded when she was left alone again. Taking the second pomegranate, she sliced it open, watching the juice flow from her finger tips and patter onto the floor. Well, maybe she was meant to be alone. Maybe she [i]always[/i] meant to be alone, even if she would only speak when she healed wounds and told said person not to move. She sighed, only slightly enjoying the fruit before she heard rather… disturbing sounds coming from the next room. Blushing, she got up and left her room, closing the door and wandering away from the sound. [i]Disgusting. How women can just throw their bodies around, I’ll never know.[/i] she shook her head and continued on her way.

The red haired woman paused only when she passed Zaino’s room and saw him stir, a few words coming from him. He seemed well, and the news pleased her. Her treatments were working. Then again, Zaino was a stronger man, one who was stubborn and fierce. He had fought against the effects of poison for who knows how long before she found him. She stepped into the room and smiled sheepishly, hoping she wouldn’t be yelled at. [b]”Hello, Zaino.”[/b] she greeted, her grip on the fruit squeezing slightly and making the juice flow again. She cursed internally, smile wavering. [b]”I hope I’m not intruding. I’ve just come to see if you’re well.”[/b]

Ambra stepped into Zaino’s room, looking around and sniffing lightly. It smelled like herbs and dirt. Ugh, the staff could try harder with cleaning up this place. Just because they didn’t have much money didn’t mean that they couldn’t clean. [b]”You woke up with all of the noise? I’m worried that the others will, too.”[/b] she stood at the foot of his bed and allowed her eyes to look over his body, even if for a moment. At least the color had somewhat returned to his skin. As long as he drank water and ate, his strength would return to him soon. [b]”I mean, I left my room to get away from it, but it seems just as bad here.”[/b]

She pulled up a little stool and sat near him, but not to close as to make him uncomfortable—or so she hoped. She didn’t want to make him angry. He had the strength of a lion when he was in battle, and that was when he was severely wounded. She didn’t want to be his practice target when he was well. [b]”I have some of this fruit. Want some? You eat the seeds inside. They’re covered in red stuff that’s good for you.”[/b] she offered half of the pomegranate and offered another smile. Maybe he could be a friend. And, even though she didn’t mean to be selfish, if she were to gain his friendship, he could be one of the men who defended her. Being an archer wasn’t an easy job.