[center][h2][color=5ec4b3]Kagan Galegar[/color][/h2][sub]Husband of Aubree Lamay[@Ellion] and Adorabella Orchard[@eclecticwitch]
Interacting with [b]Aubree[/b] and [b]Adorabella[/b][/sub][/center]

The puppy happily accepted the petting given to it by Adora, back half wagging due to the dogs inexperience with its own bodily responses and the sheer momentum of its tail. Kagan sighed as Adora attempted to brush off her desire for the book, his ambient annoyance palpable enough to quell the excited pup at his heels enthusiasm for a moment (though, only a moment as it began to wag again as soon as the wave had escaped its tiny attention span.) [color=5ec4b3]"Its a gift. Not a test."[/color] He says, picking up the book with a small grimace of disgust, looking it over before finally spotting a price tag on its side and dropping the coins unceremoniously onto the stand. The keeper barely looked up at him before snatching the money away, just thankful than the agitated Drakken had decided he was no longer in the mood to haggle. With little cermony, he handed the book to Adora gingerly, glaring down at the girl as she took possession of her gift. [color=5ec4b3]"There. You are offically gifted. Many congratulations."[/color] He huffs, the tiny puppy yapping at his heels in agreement. 

Kagan stared down at the dog before muttering. [color=5ec4b3]"Please try to conduct yourself with something approaching dignity..."[/color] He grumbled, the pup looking up and continuing to wag side to side, heedless of the order. Kagan sighs, grabbing Adora by the shoulder and turning to leave.  Bree was dutifully close to his side, which had not been expected, and the Kinner had to stop abruptly to avoid from slamming into the gem. She was staring, eyes wide and arms tightened around her newly acquired pet in a death grip, into a lightly murmuring crowd not too far away. [color=5ec4b3]"...If you kill that dog, I'm not getting you another one."[/color] He said, more out of a need to break the girls fugue than actual concern for the animal. 

There was a...cursory attempt to figure out what had the girl so transfixed, but there was little to Kagan that really seemed out of place. The slave market was many things, but an object of concern was hardly one of them. Though it did atleast seem a bit busy today, and possibly the warning he'd issue earlier was causing the delay. Either way, Kagan wasn't in the mood to deal with Bree's paranoia, cultural dissonance, or whatever else might have locked her in place. 

[color=5ec4b3]"We're done here. Move."[/color] He grunts, pushing both gems towards a more cleared exit away from the market and trying not to be entangled by the variety of dog and gem leashes hanging off of him. The latter of which he achieved only with mixed success
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Castle is generally a word which is synonymous with fortress with in Gem society, though generally considered a more refined wording. There is a preconceived notion that, amongst palisades, arrow slits, and barbicans there would be an equal, if not greater, presence of ornamentation, murals, carvings and other such minutiae of decor. Fine carpeted floors and arching fireplaces standing along side stalwart knights and bowmen. Drakken had missed this memo.

...Well, that was not entirely true. It was more apt to say that the Drakken had recieved this memo, read it. Read it again. Argued a great deal about the word ‘synonymous’. Engaged in a fist fight. Read it a third time. And then slaughtered the messenger and his family summarily because the meeting had run late and, frankly, everyone just needed the stress relief. After which, the adjourned for the evening (and then spent a long night arguing the definition of ‘adjourn’ because Drakken politics were basically a series of increasingly petty arguments). 

And then the following morning all got up at the same time and decided, in a fit of celestial bodies aligning and no small amount of base instinct, proceeded to build battlements, barbicans, more battlements, enough arrow slits to constitute a ventilation systems, solid iron gates, and many many spikes. After which they would dig up the messenger, kill him again, and build yet more battlements. With flaming spikes this time so “they would go faster”. 

In short, to call the royal palace a ‘castle’ would be insulting to castles everywhere. To call it a bastille would still come up short. It was a paranoid, blood soaked, war mongering races panicked fever dream of defensible ledges, sniping positions, choke points, and spikes that was held together through military superiority, liberal applications of iron, and sheer unassailable will. 

Many in Drakka agreed it was probably the most beautiful building in the whole damned capital. Which, for any gem present, was not saying much. But Kagan probably would have agreed with them if it were not for the fact he and his gems were being ushered through a small side entrance to his (likely) unenjoyable meeting with one of the castles primary residence. 

He was wearing his most priestly scowl, face resting somewhere between patronly disapproval and general piousness. He was going to deliver his assessment of Ehkota’s request plainly, elaborate on the potential consequences of going forward (good and bad) and hope to all the gods that the young prince had enough good sense to decide that dying like an idiot was simply not in his immeidate desires. As it stood? Kagan felt like it was a 50/50 shot....so by Drakken standards, things were going swell.

[hider = summary]
Kagan buys the book. Doesn't see whats so wrong with slave markets. They're like,...drakken starbucks. There is one on every corner. He then goes to the castle and is being ushered to his meeting. A long silly rant describing the obscenely defensibly nature of the palace ensues. 
[/hider]