Awkward, that was a way to describe it.

There was something of a rift between the King Harold and his daughters. Erick had not noticed at first, but after he’d settled into his place he could sense the armour with which the youngest princess was equipped had been deliberate - not only to impress or antagonise the suitors, but to antagonise the King himself.

Erick was no stranger to a disappointed father and he found himself glancing at Jinayah as he tried to scan her expression in these brief glimpses; he did not want to make his observations too obvious. She was brave to challenge the King in such a manner, or at least this was how Erick considered it.. pushing boundaries could bring great benefit or punishment, really you had to be prepared for the latter. Erick did wonder if the control King Harold exerted over his daughters was waning, becoming threadbare - did the marriages serve an additional purpose for him?

The Jörda prince ripped pieces of dry, fluffy bread and consumed them slowly with the occasional drink of water. He was sure he couldn’t face the butter - the soft yellow velvet, fatty and ordinarily palatable was currently unappealing, he was sure anything dairy based would instantly curdle in his gut.. he tried not to think about it and continued to mull the bread slowly around his mouth - Grìmur would say he resembled his horse.. Erick swallowed reluctantly given this thought and sipped at water. His palms felt sweaty, however he was concealing his delicate condition remarkably well, for now.

[i]Just don’t think about being sick.

No don’t think about it Erick.[/i]

He was sure some colour was draining from his face and he felt warm, he swallowed hard and breathed deeply.. to his relief the King interrupted the cascade of thoughts and he used every sense to focus on the address of the King.

[i]’so please make sure to make a good impression’[/i]

Erick’s eyes slipped away, he scanned the Astalian daughters.. [i]it was a generic remark, surely[/i]? The prince was at once both slightly self conscious and yet offended by the request of the Astalian King - the common folk? Erick had little to no regard for the common folk of Astalia, he’d be returning to Jörda, but sure, he’d play this game, he’d win the best contract for his homeland. The last comment from the King was not without its undertones, there was a concern in his voice and the prince considered if something was amiss - he was certain the gathering of the suitors was no longer a secret only too long ago, in spite of this any kind of assault on the capital or to infiltrate her walls would be brazen but.. not impossible.

Erick stood to bow as the King made his leave, and once again was seated.. slowly of course, as to not disturb the meagre contents of his fragile stomach.