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Munir was still staring at the lady with the fiery hair when she stared back. That sip of the wine was a wicked gesture that stirred up something vicious within him. He had to have her. After his small, absentminded bow towards the other honored guests in attendance, he stood in his spot of the formation, studying the lady that had issued him a challenge. The smirk never left his face.

Subconsciously, his right hand went to his waist, around a black leather coil with a sharp, golden spike no bigger than a man's thumb tied to its end. Munir never goes anywhere with his trusty whip. More often than not, it is worn around his waist as an accessory. Do not let the nonchalant nature in which Munir treats his weapon of choice fool you. He is precise and deadly with it should the need arise.

As fortune would, or would not, have it, the need arose.

A bumbling man came crashing through the gathering, calling him and his people tiger tamers and snake charmers. This notion wiped the previously cheery look from Munir's face and brought about a scowl that was both inquisitive and furious. Who was this man to assume the royal House of Kadir to be some street performer? Not long after, the bumbling man crashed into the palanquins carrying his father, uncle and the guards carrying his sister Layla. The trio and their guards did their best to stay upright but simply could not. Munir quietly lunged forward, hoping to at least soften the landing of any of the three royals if he could. Alas, he was just a half a step too late and all three crashed to the ground. What followed was a furious exchange of diplomatic gesturing. Munir had half a heart to listen to all these words being spoken. If this had happened in Alidasht, the person, or persons responsible would have their heads lopped off and their family fed to the dogs before the sultan and grand vizier hit the sand.

Quietly, Munir uncoiled the whip from his waist. He wanted to lash out and bring some sense to the whole situation by harshly sanctioning the guards for not being able to do their jobs of protecting the Alidasht royals. However, he surveyed the room, and in the interest of keeping at least a peaceful facade, he coiled the whip around his waist again, as it was before. The king offered him and his family the first choice of the feast. Munir shook his head as he thought the idea to be unwise. What if the food was poisoned? The very subtle smugness from the king did not go unnoticed. Being the youngest, he reserved his voice but wore his displeasure on his face and firmly address the king and his company in such manner. 

These Northern royals were all such a hassle and he has literally been here less than a week. Especially the last fucker to speak sweet nothings to his sister Layla and her snake Zilal. He stepped back and approached Nala again, making sure the tigress was calm from all the commotion. How he longed to be back in his tent, or the saddles of his horse, rather than this stuffy ass ballroom with all these pompous sacks of flesh and air. He is definitely inviting the lady who challenged him back to his quarters for a discussion of tonight's events later...