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In troubled times, it was important to cherish the little victories. Even if they came in the form of more work. It wasn't too hefty of a task, getting the Lucanian - Goddess, did this prick have no shame? - guard up to snuff; the existing force was more than adequate, but they were at war and a peacetime battalion simply wasn't something Tyler felt comfortable trusting. Sure, the castle security guarded royalty and behaved accordingly, but the staffing was a tad sparse to be fending off cultist attacks. That meant vetting new personnel, making sure everyone was adequately trained for a real attack and not just unruly pedestrians, establishing a sensible chain of command, on top of everything else he'd have had to do to settle in anyway. The upside was that it kept him in good shape. While not entirely out of practice back in the ballroom, testing the mettle of his new team definitely whipped him back into a fighting shape more to his comfort. 

Now the castle had a full security detail and enough personnel in reserve to nearly defend a second Lucania Castle, with a schedule that kept every guardsman well-rested and well-drilled in the event of an attack. Lucas had simply waved his hand when asked about the budget, and Tyler certainly wasn't going to argue. Unfortunately, it was almost all for naught as Lucas somehow managed to end up fucking [i]hospitalized[/i]. At least he got to miss that stupid coronation. King Ezekiel, what a joke. As if Lucas needed another thing to be smug about. He'd been infuriatingly coy about his stupid magic fork, though whatever it was seemed to have spooked him enough that he probably thought he was doing Tyler a favor by omitting information. Naturally, Tyler assumed it would blow up in both their faces and planned accordingly.

Other than that, Estoran palatial life was Estoran palatial life as he'd always known it, though the company was a bit worse this time around. The letter from Theo's mother still sat on his desk somewhere, along with a few half-written replies he gave up on when he couldn't think of what to say. Theodore would've just told him what to write by now.

Maybe he could write that down.

His stresses were overwritten by more pressing matters to stress over before he could, however, as Lucas informed him he intended to call a meeting of the Scions and 'invoke a prophecy', whatever the fuck that meant. At least he was only in charge of security, which was a surprisingly easy task given the guests were solely Scions and Templars. Anyone else was to be detained or dealt with, naturally. Tyler didn't practice a very PR-friendly brand of security, and he made this very clear to his new team.

Of course, the arguments started before the meeting did. While he couldn't help but agree with her, at least superficially, Belle played the part of a bitchy girlfriend trying to talk her man into a fight on her behalf wonderfully. Tyler had intended to lounge around for the entire meeting, quite frankly, but it seemed he'd have to play babysitter after all. No, [i]mediator[/i]. Theodore called it [i]mediating[/i].

[color=00ccff]"Relax, ladies, you're both pretty,"[/color] Tyler chimed in wearily as the flow of guests filed into the room, [color=00ccff]"I personally don't think any of our neighbors have the b-"[/color] Damn it, Rosemary. [color=00ccff]"-[i]bravery[/i] to intervene on behalf of Kaudus. They'll huff, they'll call us warmongers, and then they'll ultimately do nothing. But I believe His Highness has a point, we can't declare open war on Kaudus while these heretics already infest our borders. Clean house first, then move to the backyard."[/color]

Their [i]casus belli[/i] was the murder of Theodore Estora IX, as far as Tyler was concerned, and the opinions of a bunch of foreigners mattered to him about as much as the Kaudians, but they needed to exercise some tact against a force that managed to kill two Scions already. They were diplomatically, morally, and - most importantly - spiritually in the right here, they might as well take advantage of it and embarrass Kaudus on every stage.

And if they told him to fuck off, at least he could always fall back to the 'gift ham'.

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