[hr][hr][center][color=0076a3][b][h2]HOUSE VALIAN[/h2][/b][b]King Alexander III Valian[/b][/color]
[b]Royal Shipyard, Lalrial, Imperial Heartlands[/b]
[sub][b]6th of Gerna | 1200 AU[/b][/sub][/center]
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King Alexander III Valian had done a lot of thinking on the approach to the imperial capital abroad his sea vessel, [i]The Black Arrow[/i]. Unfortunate as it may have been, the King of Xandira’s thoughts were not about the imperial election that was soon to take place but rather on his eldest son and heir to the throne of [i]his[/i] kingdom. The scene was still fresh in the King’s mind: as the high council of Xandria debated preemptively before the King set off for the imperial capital out had marched his son like he was on a quest from Helstar himself. What he “asked” had been a colossal thing to approach him with at such an inconvenient time. It was still hard to fathom. 

He could still picture it: right as his council had been debating on the affairs of the imperial election and what King Alexander III should approach the situation with fresh in mind before setting sail— his very own heir announced to him that he intended to travel to the far north in seek of lending aid to House Lastren of The Septentrion and fighting against the barbarians who dwelled within the Webwood with sword and bow in hand. A plan that he had already advertised to Lord Anastus Lastren by sending raven to Vandaster. With the support of several of the high nobility of Xandria as well as Duncan Cragmore of Erayis, it seemed like his heir had put some long thought into the prospect. Still, as brash as Alexander IV was he still generally brought up things through the proper channels and bringing it up as the council discussed the soon-to-be-held imperial election was not. 

Where had he failed as a father that his son thought the only way he was going to be accepted was in such a fashion? Had his depression blinded him so much?

[i]“You can either give me official support or I will go without it.”[/i]

His son’s words struck him pretty hard during their conversation, but in the end, he understood that this was a matter there was not many options toward. His son would get the support he needed and didn’t have to march off to the north half-cocked like King Alexander was sure Duncan Cragmore had. But he could relate to the ambition of youth and the desire to bring the bow and sword to those who threatened the realm. The Nordheim were a threat worth looking into and with the imperial neglect as of recent years strong and quick-witted soldiers were needed more than ever.

However sensical it was King Alexander was pretty sure this all had been his fault— had he spoken differently about his escapades in the far north during his younger days before he became king perhaps this wouldn’t have become a scenario in the first place. But the past was set in stone and there could be nothing to do about it in the present. He just had to hope for his son’s future. 

Perhaps Adelheid Amrothan, the girl he had wed to his heir, would keep his priorities in check once they got to Vandaster or even sway his decision while they sat in the imperial capital waiting for the electoral decisions to pass before they went north. After all, it was easier to travel back with Lord Anastus than the alternative. He hoped so considering the girl had a way with her words that even his second-born and fifth-born couldn’t compete with. She would [i]have[/i] to if she wanted to ensure their future together. But then again, his son was [i]exceptionally[/i] stubborn when he had his eyes set on something and his plans were quite the endeavor. 

If Adelheid couldn’t convince his son, he would be sure to keep in touch as to monitor the situation; he knew how dangerous the far north was. Though he was certain he was going to have a discussion with Lord Anastus once the northern lord got to the imperial capital. 

“It’s going to be a long one, Caprica.” He mused as he turned back to face the imperial capital itself. 

It had been five years since he had stepped foot in Lalrial. Five years since he learned that his brother had lost his life to a burglar’s knife. If losing his wife twelve years ago had not been terrible enough, he had to lose Alester as well. Since becoming King some twenty-seven or so years ago Alester had served as his representative in the Prime Estates; keeping his ear open when it came to imperial politics. He had mentored King Alexander’s third-born and in many ways he was a good friend as well as his blood. His son, Theodric, had “inherited” the title of being Xandria’s representative and ambassador in the imperial city. The King still wondered if it was the best choice or just the choice grief chose for him. Either way, he hoped Theodric had some insight on the best options to elect for the imperial throne’s successor. 

King Alexander took a heavy breath as he gripped the railing, “I hope this is the last time I visit you, Lalrial.”

“Ser Elric, we are heading out to my nephew’s estate now; inform my son.”

“I’ll tell Lord Alexander right away, my lord.”

“Good.”

[hider=Mentions]Anastus Lastren
Adelheid Amrothan[/hider]