In the days following the feast, it seemed that Ozragad had little time to himself. The King was kept busy by his duties, the responsibilities of state and nation that would neither abate nor recede for any ruler. He sat long in council with his advisers, discussing the problems that had arising as a result of his proposed union with Eorzia, trying to quell insurrection before it happened. There were further riots in the Cirith Anyr, none quite as bad as the first one, but vexing none the less. 

Worse than that, from further across his Kingdom messengers brought them disturbing news. Ozragad and his councillors had expected to at least partially lose the Ashlanders, but now there were whispers of spreading insurrection. Truculent lords marshalling troops in the Ash wastes were sending out messengers of their own to make common cause with those on The Bleak Coast, and in the Grey Mountains. It was the makings of a Civil War.

And beside these weighty issues there was everything else. A palace to run, a city to govern, soldiers that needed paying, peasants that needed feeding. And a wedding of course, a wedding that would need to be organised. His wedding. The King tried to think about it as little as possible. There were other, more important, things that Ozragad needed to do first. He set all thoughts of the Eorzian Princess as far back in his mind as he could manage.

Yet think about her he did. It was hard not to, when she seemed to be the root of so many of the problems he was dealing with, as well as being the subject of daily reports he received from the spies Manawyndan had set amongst her household. But even then sometimes he just happened to find himself thinking of her for no particular reason. The dark dress against her pale skin and golden hair. The thin veneer of courtesy that hid her temper. The flashes of fear and anger in those deep blue eyes. Whenever these thoughts came, he pushed them away again.[i][color=f7941d] She's just another Hydaelyn. Besides, even if she wasn't, no one could ever replace... her...[/color][/i]

Ozragad pushed those thoughts away when they came as well.

One day when the King found a spare moment between his morning council session and his duties later in the day. To escape the throng of courtiers that vied for his attention and favour at times such as these, he went in search of somewhere they would not think to look. He thought of going down to the armouries or perhaps the stables, when a pair of large wooden doors caught his attention. The Library. Ozragad hadn't been in there in years, he had read most anything that had pertained to his interests in his youth, and he had not expanded its collection greatly during the years of the war. Something however drew him to the door, nostalgia perhaps. 

He left his guards at the outer doors before he strode into the cavernous room. It was much as he remembered. There was an austerity about the library as there was about the palace in general. Few soft furnishings or composite materials. A place of carved stone and dark polished wooden shelves that stretched high up into the shadows above. Some of those shelves were filled with ancient Morganythian scrolls of epic poetry and history. Others were taken up by codices of stories, science, mathematics and philosophy. 

It took a moment for Ozragad to realise he was not alone. She was here. The Princess. His betrothed.

[b][color=f7941d]"Oh."[/color][/b] His voice was flat, emotionless. [color=f7941d][b]"Its you."[/b][/color]

He hesitated for a moment, resisting the urge to step back out of those doors and go somewhere else. He had dressed simply that morning, a leather jerkin over a dark dark tunic. He felt strangely vulnerable meeting her without the weight of his armour. A sword and a dagger still hung from his belt though.

Why did she have to be in this particular room at this particular moment? Ozragad didn't want to do this now. He didn't want to have to deal with her. He had just wanted a quiet moment to himself, away from all the problems that beset him and his Kingdom. But he wouldn't show any weakness. He would not be the one to leave [color=f7941d][i]And why should I leave? Its my palace after all, I'm hardly the interloper here.[/i][/color] 

He took a step forward into the room.

[b][color=f7941d]"Admiring my collection?"[/color][/b]