Trade agreements, border conflicts, palace affairs, blah blah blah…

It takes everything Godien has not to slump in his seat and pass out from the sheer, excruciating boredom of it all. It's not like he has anything to contribute to these meetings. He just... sits on the royal podium looking vaguely regal next to his father and the High Queen.

"These rebel attacks are getting out of hand," snaps a hook-nosed minister, "We need to do something–!"

"And what do you suggest we do?" Godien's sister snaps back from the opposing bench, "Reignite the border conflict? We've only just entered into an armistice with the People's Republic—are you suggesting we forgo that on a hunch?”

"Numerous reports–"

“We are not restarting a war because a handful of soldiers performed the rebel’s salute–”

“Order!” The Mediator shouts, striking the wooden gavel three times in a row – a warning to comply or face the consequences, "Order in the court!”

There's a brief silence before the squabbling begins anew—Godien sighs. He slumps a little further into his seat. This is going to be a long afternoon.

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Water. Give me water," Blake pants, collapsing onto the grass next to his girlfriend – his feet still touching the white gravel of the hiking trail. Ana giggles in response, amused as she hands him the store-bought water bottle from her backpack.

He pulls a face the second it touches his lips.

Ana's giggle turns into laughter.

“Don’t be a baby,” Jenna scoffs, having not even broken a sweat, “Four hours is nothing, come on.”

"Four hours is nothing to you," Allen corrects, passing her a water bottle from his pack, "Not everyone scales buildings as a hobby. The rest of us need to rest on occasion—a short break wouldn’t hurt.”

Jenna narrows her eyes at him.

Allen raises his brow.

Jenna takes the water bottle.

“Fine,” she replies with a dramatic sigh, before pointing towards a small cave in the distance, "But can we stop over there? I want to get out of the sun."

Ana and Blake share a look.

“Nope, no way,” Blake injects, “I am not climbing a mountain for you. Do you see these shoes? Do they look like mountain climbing shoes to you?"

"They're not even hiking shoes," Jenna scoffs, "Besides, it's barely a hill. You can pass out in your precious 'Miyamuras'–”

“They’re Miyazakis.”

“Once we get there.” She continues, “Who knows? Maybe you might even enjoy the view?"

Blake balks.

“I’m okay with it,” Ana says, slipping her half-empty water bottle back into her pack, “A little shade actually sounds pretty good right now.”

“Ana,” Blake whines with an adorable pout.

“My baby,” Jenna coos, falling to her knees and pulling Ana into her arms. She squeaks on impact, "If it weren't for the law, I'd trade my brother for you in a heartbeat."

"Hey–!”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Allen interjects, gently freeing Ana from Jenna's embrace. He absentmindedly begins to fix Ana's headband for her as he turns back to his friend, "We can go to your cave to rest."

“Woohoo!”

"Oh, come on!"

“But,” Allen continues, “Once we finish our rest, we start heading back. Deal?"

Jenna pouts—he helps her to her feet.

"It's already early afternoon," Allen points out, brows raised, "Last I checked, we hadn't planned for a sleepover."

They stand there for a long beat, not breaking eye contact.

“Fine,” Jenna eventually groans, her tone defeated, "Deal."

Allen smiles and gestures for her to lead the way.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Godien struggles to contain his yawn as the Mediator finally adjourns the court. Nothing like another two to three hours returned to the Gods in exchange for petty squabbling and a headache. 

He slumps in his seat.

“Straighten your spine,” states the High Queen in a calm, monotonous voice—Godien immediately does as he's told. She returns her gaze to the court, “Thank you.”

He swallows reflexively as he glances to his right, the High King and Queen sat as imposing as ever in their imperial thrones. The High Queen returns his gaze with a subtle nod, before returning her attention to the ministers slowly filing out of the court.

He resists the urge to sigh. Royal duty dictates that he can't leave until the court has emptied, so that's another half an hour of his lifespan gone forever. He resigns himself to the wait.

Why couldn’t he have been born into an ordinary noble household instead? At least then he'd be granted permission to leave.

Blasted ancient customs.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Godien bursts through the exit doors of the Minister’s Court with a wide grin on his face—finally he is free! The suns are shining, the Lord is dancing, and the Lady has finally granted him the glorious gift of no more responsibilities–

“Your highness.”

If his hopes and dreams were a stained glass panel... it would have just shattered into a million tiny colourful pieces upon the floor.

Godien takes a deep breath—he spins on his heel to see the Holy Father himself standing to the left of the court's darkwood doors. He feels his shoulders automatically lower upon meeting the Holy Father's calm, magenta gaze. He can't help but return the man's reverent smile with one of his own.

Father Faolan steps away from the wall and approaches, hands relaxed behind his back. His smile turns knowing as he glances and tilts his head towards the right.

“Walk with me?”

Godien stares at him for a beat, before absentmindedly scratching the base of his lower left horn.

“Uhm–” he replies, eyes darting away awkwardly, “Alright.”