Rughoi wanted to jump out of his own scales. He wanted to draw his sword and do battle with this impertinent dissenter right on the spot. He stood up, lost in his own thought, and found himself a few seconds later, hand gripping the handle of his sword still in the sheathe so hard he feared his claws might fall off. There he stood, looking up to the dracon with murder in his eyes, daring the other to continue standing there until his arms are hacked off. Yet something stopped him from doing so, the small bit of reason in his mind, still yelling for attention against the overwhelming opposition of his anger, telling him that perhaps, while undiplomatic, Akydon's words were not without teeth. What was he doing? He was no longer a farmhand in the fields, he was a patrician! He cannot just pick fights with those he disliked anymore. A good autocrat must be better than that. Slowly, these thoughts grew louder in his head, beating back the notions of violence and vengeance. He let go of his sword, albeit reluctantly, and sighed. So as much as he wanted to rant and rave, as much as he wanted to disprove all of Akydon's flimsy claims, as much as he wanted to feel in the right, he opened his snout and said something completely different instead. "I have dracons battling in my army, yet you speak of genocide with such casualness I fear your intentions. Return to your home, dracon. Return to your king. Tell him the upstart emperor is ready to discuss treaty, and have him relay that to his allies, and their allies. These guards here will escort you out of my city, and I promise you on my life that they will not let harm come to you, from themselves or others." He nodded to the guards, and they exited the room, gesturing for Akydon to follow. Rughoi grabbed his crystal ball and wiped the condensation off of it again, reestablishing contact with Kutur.

"Your Might, I have sent the orders to the scouts," came Kutur's voice. "They are to ready their arms and begin a march for Aredor."

"Something has changed," Rughoi said, shaking his head. "Send a diplomat to Aredor. Dracon, if possible. Tell them to come to Traeton to discuss treaty. Tell them to say as such to their allies, and theirs. I am offering an end to the tensions, if they shall take it. Quickly, please. I'd be happy to be in the company of kings and lords, if it means I can escape that of sword wielding lunatics." The last part was said with a scornful look at the door.