The capital was as bustling as always — and the palace in the eastern central part of the city was no exception to the busy schedules of the people, the dormant hallways betraying the heavy loads of paperwork that were being carried behind closed doors. And aside from the haste made by the myriad of administrative workers, it was quite peaceful. Though behind one of said closed doors sat the king of this nation, the old man with short grey hair and a thick mustache leisurely sitting on the soft cushioning of his wide sofa, taking a break from the mass of paper on the table by the window. 

Enjoying a pour of cold water, he exhaled as the door to his lodgings was opened without a knock or announcement, ripping the calm atmosphere away from the short moment of rest. His expression turned slightly sour.

Turning his head to the side to meet with the eyes of the one who disturbed him, the king shook his head at the individual who dared to do so during his break. "Ratoya, did you perhaps forget how to knock?" He asked, setting down the glass of water down on the table. "I apologize, your majesty, but I've come to announce something urgent." The old man raised his right eyebrow while cracking the joints of his knuckles, "Did the envoy from the Confederation finally arrive? It's about time." The young man who entered, with brown hair and green eyes, dressed quite officially but kept a posture not too classy.

After closing behind himself carefully, the man spoke to the king. "I'm afraid not, it would seem that delegates from an island called Ranesairan have come with a diplomatic mission, they have requested an audience with your majesty." The king recoiled in the seat, correcting the sleeves and collar of his shirt. "What is that? Never have I heard of an island with that name.” He stopped for a moment to clear his throat, “Could they be some charlatans? I don't have the time to tend to some useless people, how were they allowed on royal grounds?" Ratoya was now poised straight as he approached the king, his face not giving a flicker of uncertainty, "That is a possibility, but they arrived with an entire escort of knights and presented seals. We know none of the lineages of the seals and the documents that they have shown, but the quality and appearance of the materials are worth thousands of tish. I doubt a ruse could afford such expenses to mimic authenticity, their messenger was carrying himself rather astutely, too, your majesty."

The king gave the man a disapproving look, rubbing his face down. "...I see, but, either way it is still suspicious, could a new nation have been formed somewhere, and they sent a delegation to establish a diplomatic channel with our kingdom?" The king stood up, spreading his arms to stretch, "I suppose so, but we can only know if we agree to hold a talk with them." That made the old man rub his chin as he thought in silence for a brief moment, "That wouldn't hurt. Regardless of their goals, I can't just send a diplomatic delegation away without a reason... That wouldn't sound good." The old man went to his work desk and reached to pick up a small bell, flicking it once, the ring made a few maids enter the room. "Allow them into the discussion room on the first floor, I'll speak to the delegation face to face." The maids hurried to bring out some of the more royal attire for the king, while Ratoya bowed and turned to leave the room.

While walking through the clean and lavish dark green halls of the palace, the man had a weary face, the shoes shuffling across the carpets as he walked. "Things only keep piling up, I should've gotten used to it when I could." He said with a monotone voice, struggling to keep his hands out of his pockets, fighting against the habit. The way to the first floor was long, the corridors of the palace were made as if to delay the way for anyone daring to walk through them, the stairs tired the legs, and the eyes were almost forced to look at the endless array of paintings lining the hallway walls. After another dozen steps, Ratoya was on the first floor at last, the grand hall of the entrance spanning wide and high, the side arch of the stairway leading down from the central balcony. With a tough sigh, he barged out of the palace and onto the square in front of it, where two carriages were stationed, the imposing knights giving off unmistakeable pressure on the man.

"Just who in the world came here in the middle of my work week? I hope it's worth my while, because I'm the only one who was left to stay behind at the palace instead of going to the Gerad Confederation. I don't wanna deal with something mundane~" 

Wiping any notion of discomfort from his face, Ratoya came up to a boy — Marriott in the flesh — and turned up a few notches for his tone in order to sound more sophisticated. "His majesty the king has agreed to accept your delegation, please, invite the delegation to come with me." Marriott looked up at the man and nodded, "I will ask them to come out of the carriage." The boy turned on his heel and passed through the perimeter of the kingdom knights, which were clad in plate armour, too. However their armour was not as tidy as the one upon the Church knights. Most also chose to keep the visors of their helmets lifted; no spark of conflict between the two parties. 

Marriott knocked on the window of the carriage, and soon it swiveled open, quiet chatter following the movement of the implement. The first to walk out was Marpha, taller than Marriott and about as tall as an average man — thought Ratoya, and then walked out Faleya, her smile slight like Marpha's, but affecting up from her lips and until the brows, making her expression appear softer. The last to walk out was Alladen, who had to lean his head harshly down to avoid getting his horns snatched on the doorframe of the carriage.

"What is that thing?"

The man thought silently, not letting the sight of the young master correcting his braid and suit drop the welcoming facade he had adorned his face with, although it was challenging. The group took a short while to adjust their attires and whisper among each other, Faleya and Alladen pulling and tugging at some sort of necklaces, hurrying to hide them under their clothes and only then did they approach the man, who was barely taller than her Excellency. "My name is Ritz Ratoya, currently acting Diplomat of the palace of his majesty the king." He said, trying to keep a straight face, while the stoic mug of the young master stared down at him from two meters of distance. "My name is Marpha Yeterikon, I'm the one leading this diplomatic mission, the others are here as representatives of some of the Island's territories, while the boy you've spoken to first is my personal attendant." 

Ritz nodded, taking a deep breath as the cold eyes of her Excellency were glued to his face. "I see, please, let me lead you to the room where you'll be able to meet with the king." Carefully picking out his words, he turned, but not on his heel, trying not to let the sound of his scraping shoes annoy the guests. As they entered the royal palace, none of the members of the delegation seemed to marvel at the rich position of items and paintings along the walls, and Marriott was also now carrying an expensive-looking chest in his hands. It wasn't that big, but enough to reach from one side of his waist to the other.

"Part of the delegation?”

With his back turned to the delegation, Ratoya allowed his face to express itself properly, and it displayed clear dismay.

“I thought that maybe he was a simple demihuman, but what's up with his eyes? I don't think I've seen horned beasts like him, those women are no better, their hair, eyes, too? Why so discoloured?” 

He was about to turn around and look at them, but a shiver ran down his back at the attempt.

“I can't put my finger on what region of the world they could be even coming from... Why is she staring into my back so hard? I hate it already..." 

The tandem reached the destination, and a room with two opposing sofas with a wide, low table in the middle was presented. The Countess nodded in some sort of agreement as they entered, while Alladen and Marpha didn't seem to pay much mind as they sat down on the left sofa, Marpha in the center, Alladen to her right and Faleya to her left, with Marriott standing beside the young master, the chest in hands. "His majesty will arrive shortly, before he does, will any of the delegates mind a cup of tea?" Ritz managed pleasantries out of his mouth, but Marpha raised her eyes at him, "No, we wouldn't, please do treat us to some of your beverages." 

Minutes passed, the tea was served, and the king was yet to arrive. 

"This doesn't taste like our tea at all, as expected. It is not unpleasant, but the experience is niche." 

Her Excellency and the rest tasted the served beverage with subtle curiosity, satiating the weak thirst they had accumulated on their way here. The maids stood to the left of their table, relative to the delegation — totalling to four, and Ritz stood to their right.