Queen Cornelia Vespasian was a shrewd woman. She'd had to be, in her position. One of the Keres, uplifted to Duchess by her marriage to the Second Son of House Vespasian, and then uplifted to Queen when the King had died and her husband ascended the throne. She was a beautiful woman, and one who had put in the time on the battlefield.
She was also a mother, and the current atmosphere amongst the 5 Kingdoms was troubling to her. Her husband had no interest in coddling their son; he never had, even when the Prince was young. In fact, if not for the fact he was expected to have an heir, Cornelia suspected he never would have bothered with marriage. She'd borne him a son first thing, and he'd never shown interest in more children, or a bigger family. He'd never shown much interest at all, other than in his son's failings, for which the young Prince had always been severely punished.
So when things had began to go wrong within their own borders, it had been the Queen who had ordered higher security for her son. And it had gone so far, now, as her summoning Vidar Kane, a man of impressive record. Hopefully, he would be the last bit of personal security the Prince would need.
They had a meeting this morning at 8, and the Queen was ready for a fight from both of the men in her family.
Vidar arrived on time, and the Queen smiled slightly. That was a good sign. She glanced over at her husband, and beyond, to the spot where the Prince usually stood.
Somehow, he was missing. She should have expected this… maybe Vidar could keep him on time or something. The man was prompt at least.
King Olybrius Vespasian was an impressive man. 6'2", blocky, like he was carved from oak, with the musculature of a champion of old. His long, golden blonde hair was pulled back in a tight Viking braid, his beared plaited. The armor he was wearing was dyed a blood-red color. The King never presided in anything other than his armor. Most other kings had ceremonial clothing, more comfortable outfits they would wear while not in combat. Olybrius wasn't that kind of man.
His piercing blue eyes were set in a hard stare, seeming to bore directly into Vidar's soul. He didn't acknowledge the bow, the symbol, or the greeting.
The Queen smiled at Vidar, and inclined her head. "Vidar Kane, thank you for your willingness to be here, and to heed the call placed on you. I'm sure you're aware of the upheaval in these days, and I'm sure you're also aware of the necessity of protection for-"
As if on cue, a raucous laugh could be heard echoing in the halls of the antechamber. Several men's voices mixed, calling goodbye's and see you laters, and then a mountain strode through the doors.
King Olybrius Vespasian was an impressive man, but the son he'd sired with one of the Keres was… beyond believing in many ways. At 6'6", he towered over his father, despite the small height difference. If Olybrius was carved from oak, the Prince was sculpted from granite. If Olybrius looked like a champion of old, then Prince Romulus Vespasian was one of the gods, come back to his people. His hair, more platinum than gold, was styled in a long fauxhawk that would stick out the top of his helmet like a plume. As he passed Vidar, he turned and nodded at the warrior, a friendly gesture. His eyes were an icy blue, similar to his father, but lacking the hostility. They were open, friendly, and at the moment… slightly unfocused.
As the Prince walked to his spot on the dais, Vidar got a strong whiff of alcohol, specifically whiskey. Romulus kept a steady gait in his vantablack armor, his helmet under his arm. He gave his father a short nod, and gave a much more sweeping bow to his mother.
"You're late, boy." The king spoke, his voice a growl. "Can you not even summon the decency to be on time?"
Romulus took his spot next to his father, and when he spoke, his voice was a deep rumble. "My apologies, my King. Had I realized we were to have such a distinguished guest, I would have hastened my steps." The underlying accusation of 'you don't tell me anything' was clear.
The King narrowed his eyes, and turned his attention back to Vidar. "I disagree that my son needs guarding. If he fails to protect himself, then he was never worthy to be a Vespasian, or indeed, my son, in the first place. However." He glanced at the Queen. "I do agree he needs a baby sitter, like some suckling child unable to be responsible."
The Queen had taken on a long-suffering expression, not enjoying the tension between the King and his heir. When it became clear that Olybrius wasn't going to shoot down the idea, though, she perked up. "Indeed, perhaps some of your better habits could rub off on our youthful son." She smiled at Vidar. "Have you any particular questions for us, before you are assigned on this necessary, and might I add honorable, task?" Her eyes were hopeful.
The King's glare was back, baleful and challenging Vidar to say anything, anything out of line.
And the Prince's expression? Somewhere between complete boredom and deep annoyance.