[center][h1][b][color=9354FF]Fritz "Ryn" Hendrix[/color][/b][/h1][color=9354FF]Interaction(s):[/color] Lorenzo [@FunnyGuy][/center]
A smile spread across the Count's face when the Sultan announced the final verdict: dinner, once a week with the family. Ryn could think of worse fates than a weekly dinner. Then again, given the temperament some of the Sultan's children displayed, it was perhaps too early to claim that it was a merciful sentence. Nevertheless, the matter was settled. There were no fatalities or serious injuries. Since Duke Vikena was held accountable, it was unlikely that the servants' punishment would be as severe as it would have been if the blame had been placed solely on them. They would still be punished, of course. A Lord made a complaint that was never retracted. Nobles tended to forget to do so, but those tasked with keeping the staff in line were not prone to forgetting complaints. If there was the slightest possibility that the servants were at fault they needed to be disciplined, because apparently, the mere possibility that it could have been their fault… was enough to be their fault. It wasn’t the best way to start the evening, but like Duke Vikena’s sentence, it could have been worse. 

Ryn should have prepared himself to resume what he was doing before this entire fiasco happened, but he found it difficult to move his feet forward. After a few failed efforts, a sense of panic slowly crept into him. He was able to do it before, what was so hard about it now? Perplexed, he lifted his hand to see it trembling. Ryn scoffed at himself. Whatever it was that carried him from the carriage to King Edin's feet abruptly lost its effect after being disarmed by the unexpected event. It was his music recital all over again. He closed his eyes.

[i]'What’s the matter? Got stage fright?'

Little Ryn opened his eyes as he turned to see his sister come into view. They were standing off stage near one of the wings. She smiled and reassured him, 'Relax, you’ll do great. We practiced so much for this day!'

On his other side, his brother teasingly added, 'And if you mess up, we’ll be sure to laugh at you.'  His sister lightly punched their brother, 'OW! Geeze, all I’m saying is that even if he messes up there’d be a next time! And we’ll be able to laugh about today.'

[color=9354FF]Will there be a next time?[/color]

'Always.' The gentle fragrance of honeysuckle and magnolia that followed his grandmother filled the library, mingling with the smell of old books. Her hands caressed his head, 'As long as you live, there will always be a next time.'[/i]

Ryn took a big breath in, attempting to fill his lungs with the scents of a bygone time. Even though the smell was nonexistent in this room, the very thought of them calmed him. He let his hand fall back to their original position and he looked back at the options in the ballroom. There were so many options. So many factors, both known and unknown, to consider. So many decisions to make. What if he makes the wrong choice?

[i]'Oh lad, sometimes I wonder how you get anything done with that over thinking of yours.' His grandfather shook his head and tapped his walking stick against Ryn's shoe, 'Nothing changes if you don’t take the first step.'[/i] 

At the end of the day, it was why he was here. To take the first step and bring change to the stagnate state of affairs. Even if he was not successful, he wanted to have left a path that made it easier for others to follow. And to do that…

He took a tentative step forward.

[i]'Excellent! The first is always the hardest!' His father beckoned him to take another.[/i]

Then he took another step.

[i]'Don’t forget what you learned, Ryn.' This time his mother corrected his stance, 'In court, everyone is watching and judging you for even the most minor of things.'[/i]

He adjusted the third step.

[i]'Confidence, Ryn! Confidence! You got to have so much of it that you ooze it!' The twins followed behind the black tigress which escorted her mistress as she walked away to greet Prince Wulfric. They snarled and pretended to claw at Ryn in mock ferocity. One said, 'I hear these people can smell weakness.'
'Like sharks smell blood in waters miles away,' the other interjected, 'Rawr!' 
'Silly, sharks don’t roar.'
'Oh.'[/i]

Every step after, Ryn made sure to keep his head held up high. When he reached his mark, Ryn was Count Fritz Hendrix again. 

He bowed once, to indicate that he was sorry for walking between the Rulers. As he did so, his gaze was drawn to Duke Vikena's condition. The puffy red eyes and tear-stained face made Ryn pause to think what his next action should be. He turned to face the Sultan.

[i]'After me,' Tej said.[/i]

Ryn bowed his head low, arms crossed at eye level, and thumbs facing down, as had those who came before him did. What followed after the formal bow were words that sounded completely foreign to those born and raised in the Northern Kingdoms. Some close enough to hear may have feared that another noble was about to humiliate everyone again by "singing" to the Sultan.

[color=9354FF]"[/color][color=Gold]<<[/color][color=9354FF]Peace be upon you, Enlighted one. Your Excellency.[/color][color=Gold]>>[/color][color=9354FF]"[/color] He nodded towards the Grand Vizier, before looking back at the Sultan. [color=9354FF]"[/color][color=Gold]<<[/color][color=9354FF]Pardon the intrusion. Pay me no heed. I am but a nameless wind, here to whisk away a person who may need some time to recompose themselves. It would, however, be remiss of me not to greet Your Majesty and Your Excellency.[/color][color=Gold]>>[/color][color=9354FF]"[/color]

In Alidasht, there was an antiquated formal way of speaking when directly addressing the Sultan and their kin known as the "golden tongue" which was characterized by its melodic structure. It was not singing, or at least, this manner of speech was not considered to be singing in Alidasht, but Ryn could see how it may have appeared like he suddenly broke into song. In ancient times, it was said that it was a requirement to be able to talk in this fashion if one wanted to commune with the Sultan, for it was believed that the common tongue was far too barbaric for their ears to bear. This practice died down over time; while the golden tongue may have sounded beautiful, it lacked practicality and served more as a barrier rather than a bridge between the ruling class and their subjects. Remnants of this tradition could still be heard during ceremonies and some forms of entertainment.

[i][color=9354FF]'Why should I learn it then?'[/color] 

Little Ryn looked up at the older man. Tej met the boy's gaze with a smile, 'Because it feels nice knowing that someone made an effort to learn about the culture.' Ryn noticed how Tej didn’t say "my culture" and pointed it out. The smile on Tej's face faded as his eyes shifted to the side. 'My family has not set foot on Alidasht for generations. I only know the culture because my mother taught me, she because her father taught her. How can I possibly claim it as my homeland?'

[color=9354FF]Anywhere you want to be is home, Tej.[/color][/i]

[color=9354FF]"[/color][color=Gold]<<[/color][color=9354FF]Despite the unexpected mishap, I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay here. If fortune favors me, it would be an honor to meet you again. Until then, many blessings upon you.[/color][color=Gold]>>[/color][color=9354FF]"[/color] Ryn bowed in the Sultan’s direction, then turned to face the Danroses and bowed to them as well. 

After properly dismissing himself, Ryn proceeded towards Duke Vikena. He smiled as he pulled a handkerchief from his inner breast pocket and offered it to the man. [color=9354FF]"If I may be candid, Your Grace, it may be in your best interest to wash up a little."[/color]