[center][h3]TAUTOM CITY[/h3] [b]The premises of the marvelous luxurious Balti Castle, seat of King Orso Balti[/b][/center] [hr] As Quintus Vitalius of Amal walks the streets of Tautom, his bodyguard follows him close behind. For being this out in the open is ever a risky affair. The threat’s not just lurking in the lower commons where all the gutter swine dwell -- no, it is not them Quintus fears. It is the ones in their high pearly towers. The Douxes, who seek to undermine him at every step and their many henchmen. One can never be too careful in Tautom City. Even after entering the courtyard of Balti Castle, the Amalian captain is ever on edge. He approaches the gate leading into Orso’s domain, where a shirtless man with shining, oiled, rippling muscles orders him to stop, crying: [i]“STOP.’’[/i] Quintus began to slow down, taking his time before coming to a halt within arms reach of the shining, muscular guard, making it clear he would only stop on his terms. The Guard speaks through his hoplite helmet. [i]‘’Who goes there?’’[/i] Quintus’ stern brown eyes stared down the guard, a hint of frustration and anger glistening behind them before they vanished in a moment, replaced by a well practised, cool smile, and a bright, friendly gaze. [i]“Doux Quintus Vitalius, may I have your name?”[/i] He paused for a moment, his mouth tightening, as he seemed briefly in thought before continuing [i]“Hm… Actually no I don’t have time for such trivialities. I’m here for my audience with the king.”[/i] The guard clears his throat. [i]‘’The name’s Pelos. Yes, yes. You Douxes come and go these days to meet his Majesty. Well see, the King is busy at the moment.’’[/i] As the bulging muscled guard spoke these words, Quintus can observe steam pass through the gaps of the shut gate leading into Orso’s throne room, behind whom can be heard the distant giggling of maidens. [i]‘’I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a bit till the King is finished.’’[/i] Pelos continues. Quintus frowned for a moment, looking the guard over for a moment, taking in his oiled and well defined physique, yet absolutely useless militarily, lacking even the dullest sliver of steel. He contemplated the thought for a dangerously long time before he forced himself to speak: [i]“Yes!”[/i] He pushed a fake laugh, playing along with the guards small talk. [i]“Douxes do come and go, don’t they? Well… Not as often as guards come and go, hm?”[/i] He left the thinly veiled threat hanging in the air before adding in a firmer tone [i]“Perhaps you might inform Prince Zeno, that I am here? He is expecting me.”.[/i] [i]‘’Hrmpf. Well. I am posted here, you see. You’ll have to uhh. Hey! You there!’’[/i] The most-athletic gate guard beckons at a nearby servant girl. ‘’Get the Prince, will you?’’ [i]‘“Which of the 63 princes? Sebasteas? Nonnonso??’’[/i] The girl stammers. [i]‘’Zeno!’’[/i] [i]‘’Ah, right away.’’[/i] As Quintus had to bide his time, the servant girl hastened off towards a distant corner of the Balti Palace Complex, returning 10 minutes later with a young 13 year old prince. Quintus recognised him immediately, for he had trained him himself. The youth was tall for his age, with mousy blonde hair, and a wiry frame draped in a bordeaux-red embellished toga with golden outlines, a testament of his princely status. Quintus smiled warmly, opening his arms in greeting towards Zeno. Recognising his mentor, the Tautan Prince proclaims: [i]‘’Ah!’’[/i] With a crack in his voice. (puberty) [i]‘’I’ve been hoping that it was you, Quintus. You’re the only Doux we can trust.’’[/i] Zeno walks towards Quintus and embraces him as a son would a father. The young prince is a bit soft spoken, but he is studious, diligent and hard working. He understands duty and discipline. [i]‘’What are you here for? Come to see my fath-- King Orso?’’[/i] The boy sighs. [i]‘’Why bother? He never has time for anyone, not even his own children...’’[/i] [i]“Yes, nor do the Douxes seeing to his city’s defence commit to the wellbeing of the final bastion of hope in this wretched land. But come, here isn’t the place for the such talk. I can practically see myself in Peblo’s oiled abs. Let’s head inside. I have news.”[/i] He skipped over the guard’s name without care, smiling as he lifted an arm towards the gate. Pelos who was still just uncomfortably standing in front of it this entire time overheard them. [i]‘’Uh. But I still can’t let you inside. The King’s busy.’’[/i] Quintus then looks at Zeno, expectantly. As if telling him to test his assertivity as a ruler-to-be. Zeno gets the hint and speaks to the guard. [i]‘’You! In the name of my father, the King! -- let us pass this instant! He invited us!’’[/i] Pelos just grunts at this point. ‘’As you wish, my Prince.’’ Making a bow, he forces open the metallic gate. And an incredible cloud of moist and perfume pours into the hallway. [i]‘’You may see the King. Your guards will have to wait in the hallway, however.’’[/i] Quintus purposefully ignores the guard for now. But tells his own bodyguard to wait outside. Dropping a hand to his belt he remarks quietly to Zeno under his breath as he walks towards the open gate, his astute gaze looking forward. [i]“Good. Remember though. Make orders under your own authority, not that of others. You are still a Prince.”[/i] He looked down to the boy and smiled [i]“But the news. Eudoxia took it well. Very well. Hesitant at first, but after a few words she seemed rather keen. And yourself?”[/i] [i]‘’Yes, master Quintus. I am prepared. I know it is for the future and security of the realm. Someone has to take control of this chaos, if Orso will not.’’[/i] Walking into Orso’s throne room, the two quickly spot the Tautan King and his seraglio of many wives having a nice spa bath. Apparently the throne-room is rather multi-functional. Celesean technology. The king’s face is covered with an ointment of grounded vegetables to purify his skin, and paired with his nipple piercings and skin paint and hair, he looks rather ‘eccentric’ for a king. All the young women around him also have these strange ointments covering their skin and faces as they enjoy the hot waters. [i]‘’Hm?’’[/i] King Orso removes the cucumber slice covering his right eye. [i]‘’Who opened the gate?’’[/i] [i]“Your majesty. My king.”[/i] Quintus presses a fist to his breastplate, inclining his head towards the naked monarch, his eyes briefly looking over the women embroiled in the spa treatment. [i]‘’Oh it’s you again, Qui-ran Vulturius Something Something Amalius, right? Come and join me! The waters are still hot!’’[/i] Orso says with a laugh, turning to his guest. Quintus smirks, almost laughing himself. Biting his tongue, nearly hard enough to draw blood he managed to force the laughter back, well aware of the king’s jovial aura, silently hating how it twisted his mind… But surely it wasn’t that bad. Was it a bad thing to laugh? Feeling his mind already straying, he kicked himself. [i]“The waters look so enticing I find myself hard pressed to refuse, my king. However important matters are at hand, for I bring your esteemed son, Prince Zeno with me.” He places his hands behind his back, tensing his shoulders as he looks down at the king, thankful of the thick steam, an excuse to hide any hint of displeasure he has at the scene in front of him. “With your blessing, your son seeks my beautiful daughter, Eudoxia’s hand in marriage.’’[/i] The King perks up, the cucumber slice covering his other eye falling and hitting the water with a splash. [i]‘’I love royal marriages! You seek to bring our families closer together? So you did listen to me when I pointed out we should all aspire to be one big family in Tautom. You finally understand, Quiran! I knew you’d see the light eventually.’’[/i] Prince Zeno remains quiet, biting his lip as to not burst out in an indignant tirade at Orso’s platitudes about family, while completely neglecting his own son all his life! [i]‘’Is that the Prince right there?’’[/i] Orso looks over at Zeno. ‘’I believe your name was Zeno, right? You grow so fast. I am proud of you, my son! Go with my blessing!’’ One of his wives sitting besides the King speaks up, caressing him playfully. [i]‘’Um, my dear Orso… If I may speak. You should really reconsider. How can you trust this man? Blessing this union might only decrease your hold over the Kingdom, love. Can we afford further division?’’[/i] Quintus brushes her words away with a charismatic air. [i]“My king, I command 3,000 soldiers, and I have no rightful heir. With your blessing, you will have earned the unquestioning loyalty of every soldier, and brought the loyalty of our Kingdom’s Amalian community even closer than it already was. The celebrations [b]alone[/b] will give cause for every citizen to drink to your health!”[/i] Orso turns to his wife: [i]‘’See? Quiran thought everything out! I don’t see why you have to doubt his good intentions -- we’ve been friends for years! That’s not the mentality to foster solidarity. Why so distrusting of a fellow Tautan officiary? We are all in this together.’’[/i] This wife just looks at Quintus with a sassy glare, cynically aware of Quintus’ true intentions. Orso’s words give no respite, for she represents a different faction in Tautom’s power struggle, one that certainly dreads Quintus’ growing influence. And for him she’s certainly a fearsome rival to contend with, disregarding that she’s presently completely undressed, exposed and her skin covered with food. Another woman rose her voice, Kalisto, mother of Theodonus and spider hiding at the center of the webs of intrigue. [i]“Yes, why so distrusting? Why should the king have to [b]‘earn’[/b] the unquestioning loyalty of every soldier, does he not have that already? ...Or are you aware of things the court isn’t, Quintus?”[/i] [i]‘’Wow, wow, Kalisto! So you’re saying I am not totally aware of everything that’s going on in my city’s structure? What you are saying!’’[/i] Orso proclaims in drunken indignity, before looking back at Quintus with a goofy grin. [i]‘’Women! am I right?’’[/i] Quintus glared at the woman with a stone cold glare, but he felt the corners of his lips lifting in a friendly smile a moment later, the words coming forward from a well practised silver tongue [i]“Men are fickle, some are bought with silver, some with ideas, i’m sure my lady Kalisto is familiar with such practices, it would be foolish to pretend otherwise. The king [b]deserves[/b] their respect and admiration, and as I owe my position and life to his good grace, it is my duty to ensure it is so.”[/i] he finished speaking by looking at the king, and inclining his head once more. [i]‘’You are a true friend, Quiran!’’[/i] Then the King of Tautom stands up from the spa in all his undressed glory, having the decency to grab a towel to cover his privates before walking out the waters, and towards his gaudy throne at the back of the large chamber. Having scaled the steps towards said throne, he grabs the scepter laid thereon, and lifts it up. He then dramatically points it at Quintus. [i]‘’Very well then! In the name of my ancestor Odovakre, I bless the unbreakable union between your noble daughter and my beloved son!’’[/i] He waves the scepter some more, with nothing seemingly happening. But in effect, the marriage has been sanctified with the King’s divine powers. Really. The Doux looks down to Zeno to gauge the boy’s reaction, spotting the hint of a smile on his face, Quintus looked back to the king and inclined his head, before raising his voice [i]“Your words warm my heart, and i’m sure your Son’s as well!’’[/i] [i]‘’Yes, I will do my duty for Tautom, and I can hardly wait to tell Eudoxia the good news!”[/i] Zeno said as he straightened up, rather awkwardly avoiding the gaze of the women present, glad that his mother isn’t among them. The prince instead manages a confident smile aimed towards the king “And if I might be permitted to do just that?” Orso makes himself comfortable in his throne, looking down at the two. [i]‘’What do you mean, son?’’[/i] [i]“Well… If.. Ma-”[/i] Zeno began to flush, struggling to explain his own words, before Quintus stepped in with a confident air [i]“With your leave, my king, we will go give my daughter the good news. Glory to Tautom!”[/i] The Doux then pressed a fist to his breastplate, before turning around to leave, gesturing for the Prince to lead him out.