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Alexander IV Valian
13th of Gerna | 1200 AU
Valarien Estate, Lalrial

	The heir to the Kingdom of Xandria had only been to Lalrial twice in his lifetime thus making the imperial election his third experience with the imperial capital. His wife, Adelheid Amrothan, had remained still on the voyage from Harrow some three or four days prior. Alexander could feel it in the air, in the stillness of her movement, and how she was tiptoeing around certain topics— she was not happy with him and whilst she had not discussed Alexander’s intention to journey to the north he knew she wanted to talk about it. He had not married a coward or a mute. But Alex was not foolish and decided to take his conversation outside to where they could have some degree of privacy.

	“So are you going to mention your feelings about it or keep quiet until the end of days?”

	Adelheid turned to look at her husband. He had finally asked, she knew that he would. Even here, he sought a confrontation, though it was not one of malice, of course. There were battles to be fought everywhere in life, and this was now her frontline. She had already foreseen the likely outcome. She let a hand reach up and brush aside a lock of her red hair - red, she reminded herself, ginger was far too rustic and provincial a term to be used outside of Dreiben, she quietly thought, resenting that erstwhile comment from some foreigner she had overheard some years ago.

	“Will they change your mind in the slightest? I expect everyone hopes so, but I very much doubt that even I will ever hold so mighty a power over you, dearest Alex.” She responded, letting the half-compliment half-barb come forth. She knew it was a useless thing to say, but it was how she felt. It was truly something that would likely remain beyond her, to challenge him so when a decision was made. She was still deciding whether she liked it or would someday come to despise herself for it.

	Alexander took a heavy breath as he turned around to look at the view in the distance. Her teeth had not dulled, that much was for sure; he was glad for that. She also wasn’t entirely wrong about his opinion regarding the issue. Alexander was rarely decided or swayed by the words of diplomats and his wife was cut from the same cloth as his brother— a cloth that hadn’t changed his mind about his quest in the courtyard at Ebonheart and he was sure it wouldn’t change his mind here in Lalrial even with the importance of the party that was going on inside. But he had no reason to cause pointless bruises between his wife and he. 

	“Do you know why I decided on it?” He asked blankly.

	Adelheid considered the question briefly, it was not the one she had expected and it required a moment’s thought. She wondered if it mattered, or whether he wanted to at least offer the recompense of a justification, such as it was. She sighed.

	“I believe no one really does, even if you have explained yourself. It is difficult to understand, particularly for anyone close to you. You remind me of Reimar in that way, but you are very different in how you choose to go about avoiding things.” She realised that wasn’t accurate, and so didn’t wait for a response.

	“I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair. I don’t know if you’re avoiding anything or not. I shouldn’t judge you by another man’s character. Go on, then, tell me.” She finished, mentally chastising herself.

	“The Nordheim are going unchecked.” He stated as his blue eyes looked out in the distance. “The imperial garrisons in the northeast are in complete disarray to the point they are becoming ruined shambles as the men in those garrisons exponentially diminish day by day. Imperial support isn’t there and they don’t have a cohesive defensive barrier like the northwest does. People are dying to the sword as barbarians of sin move into hamlets and villages; raping, maiming, and murdering. Back home in Xandria we have problems with vilespawn and the rare occasion of piracy. They seem invisible in comparison.”

	Alex frowned as he thought about it, ever since he started reading about the north in the last four or so years he began to learn vast amounts of wisdom that he really couldn’t stomach to ignore. In the minds of many he was probably perceived as a warmongering brute but he did this because the realm needed it and his talks with Lord Zarand only confirmed such beliefs. How long could a child of Kammeth allow senseless genocide. His wife, like his brother, probably believed that he didn’t need to go himself but only support the defense instead but Alexander didn’t find that ideal or honorable in the slightest. He wasn’t a man to sit behind a desk and let others endanger their lives where he was too afraid to do it himself. That kind of fear was made of dishonorable cowardice. He refused to facilitate such a trait.

	“They need it. Especially if Jakinus does not get elected to the imperial throne.”

	Adelheid considered what she believed to be an honest response. She understood, but understanding and accepting were not the same thing, which was something she expected was somewhat of a subtlety that Alex had a mind to overlook. 

	“I see. I understand your reasonings, no doubt they have served as a cause for many a man through time. Most of them are no doubt forgotten, but we owe them much. Alex, you are not someone that can simply head off to combat the threat of the Nordheim without consequence, what if the worst were to happen to your father? Would you abandon your newfound duty and return to your people when they need you, or will you find another cause to rally behind, allow your duty to fall to your siblings? To William? Have you really considered all of that which is placed upon you? Upon us?” She stopped, frustrated. “Did you even think about me when you made your decision?” She let it out, that burning question. She had nothing else to ask.

	“As I told William, my father may be nearly a cripple and growing in age but he is not a dead man yet. But yes, I weighed my options and considered much. Sitting in Ebonheart drinking wine and working towards an heir would be the easy decision; but true Kings make hard decisions.”

	He turned away from his glance towards the skies as he looked at his wife. “I did not think to go about this half-hearted. Believe me when I say this, I love my family and you especially. Consider that this conversation… this explanation is something unique to you. I told them what I was doing and that was the end— with you I tell you why.”

	Adelheid met his gaze, just for a moment, before turning away. She let out a frustrated, defeated sigh. “What truly bothers me is not that you’ve decided to go North, not that you won’t listen to all those who would tell you to stay, the gods know you wouldn’t be you if you did, no, what bothers me, what hurts, is that you never came to me when you were making this decision. Instead, it’s made and like the day turns to night it cannot, will not, must not be changed. That’s what cuts deep. I can’t see this, us, working like that if we truly love each other.”

	“You’re right.” He admitted, though he wasn’t particularly proud of it. He always had a hard time gauging and dealing with the emotional aspect of others even before his mother died. It was times like this where he wished he could be like William where he could make sense of others and their feelings. 

	“There’s no question about that.” He added after a brief pause, his admittance likely catching his wife off guard. “I have no excuse for not coming to you before I made off and told my father. There were plenty of occasions where I could have. But I did not. That is my failing.”

	She turned back, letting a sympathetic smile accentuate her face. She considered what to say next, but knew it best to not overthink the matter.

	“We all have our failings, though I know you, out of anyone I know, will overcome them.” She let her acknowledgement and his admittance be joined, before they became a closed chapter in their joint history.

	“Your father is going to be very disappointed in me. No doubt, my father is going to be just as upset when he hears I’m going with you. And don’t even think about trying to change my mind. I won’t hear of it. Rumors are I’m taking after my husband’s stubborn side as of late.” She let a small semblance of laughter spill forth, she needed it, that ambrosia of light humor.

	“It will give you a good reason to stay alive and prevent my grisly demise at the hands of the barbarian horde, at least.” She finished, adding an unnecessary softness to her voice that belied a sense that she wasn’t being too serious, though she like any knew the potential dangers the Nordheim could pose.

	He smiled warmly, “In the beginning it will just seem like a colder Ebonheart, I’m sure. We’ll be honored guests of Lord Lorant Zarand in Ziele for some time. My father’s military support won’t likely arrive until some weeks later.”

	“A Valian and an Amrothan, the good Lord Zarand may very well have a heart attack.” She joked.

	“I think the Cragmore will do him right in.” 

	“Was that.. a joke?” She responded, almost incredulous.

	“A rare performance, indeed.” He chuckled. “That aside, I suppose we should enjoy Lalrial while we are here.”

	“No better time than now, we may even run into my own kin. All it takes is the death of the Emperor to bring everyone together, it seems. At least for now.” 

	“I can relate, the last time my father and myself were here it was to bury my uncle, Alester. It is strange how the rites bring us back full circle.”

	“Death has a way of motivating people, at least, for good or ill. They used to bury the Horse Lords in mounds back in Dreiben, before they decided that wasn’t quite holy enough. They once entombed some poor lord while he was still alive. I’m sure there’s some applicable homely tale in that somewhere.” She offered, searching for wisdom where there perhaps was none.

	“We have a few tales like that dating back to Ancient Xanditharima, where the lords were entombed into the great trees within The Viridian Sea. Supposedly there are trees out there in the sea that are the reincarnations of my ancestors. Some say if you harvest them they bleed like any man.” Alexander recalled, sharing the particular morbid anecdote. 

	“Thankfully I don’t think we’ll be needing to deal with either here, just a few days where our worst concern will be which noble we offend the most.” She said, as if looking forward to the latter.

	“So, let us find a noble to offend then.” He chuckled following a nod.

	“Lead on, my dear. I’ll keep roomy mounds and deadwood off the shopping list for now. Probably.” She flashed him a quick smile.

Terminus Valarien
13th of Gerna | 1200 AU
Valarien Estate, Lalrial

	Terminus Valarien was not a man suited to frivolous engagements of wine and song, a fact that was clear as Kammeth's flame as the inquisitor tried his best to stay away from interacting with the party’s audience. But much like every Valarien still breathing it was not only expected of him to be in attendance but also required, and not just by his kin either. Whilst Terminus was the second-born and held some political clout on that fact alone, his true reputation came not from his bloodline but what he had earned as an agent of The Argentum and servant of Kammeth.

“We need you to investigate your family's affairs and keep your eyes open. There is something going on beyond simple votes and favors in Lalrial.”

	The words of the Elder Council were never ones to take lightly— though he wondered what sort of things were happening in Lalrial that were so important to stop him from investigating a vilespawn infestation that he believed could’ve been a telling precedent that was far more important than wine, promises, and condescension. But while he was not a political animal or spy, the wisdom of his betters was difficult for him to dismiss and ignore outright. He’d carry on and do as he was asked but… he wasn’t sure what he would notice outside of uncouth pretension and arrogance. As for his relationship with his family and him bringing his perception with their affairs in mind? He wasn’t sure what he could learn given that his relationship with his kin was distant at best; especially the two Valarien’s that had put the most coin into this superfluous event. 

	Out of the two, he still held a relationship with Allianna though it was hardly an “active” relationship. She had been the youngest of their father’s children and while Ralltene was off playing merchant prince she was the one who had to fight for everything she had while Terminus and Jakinius put sword in front of the realm’s enemies. In many ways, she was much smarter and braver than he had been.

	"I say this to you. As Arch Elector, I will vote for Ralltene Valarien, if the electors should reach a tipping point in choice between him and either you or Jakinius. Unless you make me a sufficient offer, now, right this moment. Not later. If you make an excuse and walk away to attend to something else, that will be all. If you want to be elected by House Chalarensis, I shall only give you this one moment to sway me."

	The voice of Diende snapped Terminus out of his isolated thoughts as he “announced” such disrespect towards the very person Terminus had been reflecting on; and at someone who was above him— his sister. Had it been at anyone other than Allianna he may have been able to ignore it idly. His hand went directly to the hilt of his inquisitor’s blade as his expression obviously went from distant to aware and irate. How anyone could be such a contemptuous and impolite fool was beyond his reason though Terminus certainly felt he shouldn’t have been surprised considering the reputation of the most irrelevant house in all of the elector seats. Terminus had dealt with lesser nobility who skirted the line of heretical and foolhardy for the past dozen or so years that passed, but he never thought anyone would try to play with fire in such a way here and now. Perhaps this is what The Argentum meant with keeping his eyes open? 

Both my family and my faith would not want me to give in to wrath so easily. But he needs to learn his manners.

	Terminus took a heavy breath as he lessened the grip on his blade’s hilt before moving the goblet he held in his opposite hand to his lips— the taste of Cedfield apples aged with honey, ginger, and other spices running down his throat. Depending on his sister’s reaction or other words spoken only then would he act— but as per the current scene he would only act with clarity and not with foolish zeal— Kammeth had chosen him to be a guardian of his children and would not look kindly on him acting in his name inappropriately. 

	And he refused to act inappropriately, unlike others in attendance.

	Though the temptation was there, of course.

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