When King Mizmeam found out that Maleeva had met with the Brynnyfirdians he was somewhat displeased. Unlike King Brijsk, who'd responded with mirth and measure, King Mizmeam's reaction was one of pure anger. An anger that began with mild disbelief, and that then led up into a crescendo of outbursts and prognostications. As he was finally coming down from this peak of rage King Kaspria entered the room. He too felt aggrieved, but instead of expressing his own feeling he paused and considered his options, eager to see what the general feeling was before offering his own.
"What was King Brijsk's response?"
"The Northern King was not too pleased," offered Eartaria, stepping forward and speaking up, in a way that slightly irked both kings, unaccustomed as they were to hearing interjections from unruly Brynnyfirdians. Nevertheless, Kaspria took the information and digested it into his thinking. As the scene played out Coulema Galina stood watching on; still chained and captive, but enjoying the opportunity to see these royal heavyweights in close action.
"We must be upfront with the King of Tunid at our next meeting," stated King Kaspria, in a considered tone, as he tried to read and mirror the mood of King Mizmeam. He then waited for a response, which came, but not in a direct way.
"Is your daughter, the princess, still missing?"
"Yes ..our search goes on."
"And Queen Aglaia, I'm guessing she has still not sent her ships."
King Mizmeam paced around agitatedly as he said this, as if deep in thought. His anger subdued into a brooding, calculated cunning. Kaspria nodded.
"The King of Tunid could also send some ships to our aid, but likewise doesn't," admonished Mizmeam, "He directs our affairs here with confident indifference. Yet, as we know, we three kingdoms, together, by far outweigh not only his, but the rest of the kingdoms combined. Our land, our men, our ships, our resources. We exceed in every arena. We should be unassailable ..but here we are, besieged and contorted by these ragged islands. Like mighty lions cowered by tiny and scattered mice."
A light smirk crossed Eartaria's face as he heard the king say this, but fortunately, so focused on pacing the room, the king didn't notice. Meanwhile, King Kaspria felt a touch of terror as he heard the heretical words from his counterpart king. He looked over at Coulema Galina. The statuesque physique and composed manner of the Tunidan guard, even in chains, evoking the regal glory of the one island that stood astride all others. Not knowing who to fear more he retreated more so into silence.
Mizmeam poured himself a drink. As he began to do so a panicked retainer rushed over, to carry out the task for him, so unusual it was to see the king serve himself. The king brushed him away with an ireful look. Continuing to pour it himself, he then headed out onto the balcony. High in the wild mountains, the castle was a good distance from the coast. The perfect place to receive noble visitors, like King Kaspria, that had crossed through the icy mountains from the east or north. Perhaps fittingly, its situation also meant that cold winds and rain often battered down on the castle walls. King Mizmean felt the bluster of the weather as he stepped out. The rain had not arrived, but looming clouds gathered in the distance. He looked down on the wide landscape before him. The overcast hills and fields below looking ominous shades of green in the shadow. He gently swirled the dark wine in his glass before taking a deep swig. Its colour seeming to mirror the reds and greys of the storm clouds smothering over. The evening sky a bleary, bloody red.
"It's a bad omen," cursed Eartaria, as he walked out to join the king, a self-poured drink in his own hand. The brashness of the Brynnyfirdian again causing annoyance, though the rare experience of honest conversation found a reluctant welcome. "Perhaps," acknowledged the king stoically in return. He then looked up once more to the billowing quilt of grey cloud and incarnadine light. The supernatural aspect of the weather imbibing a sense of savageness.
"So, the war against us continues, does it?" questioned Eartaria.
"Of course. We'll keep putting your people to the sword until you completely surrender."
"And what about the Tunidans?"
"We'll see how things fare with the Tunidans."
King Mizmeam then looked down at his drink before sinking the last of its contents. The sweetness of the wine clashing with the bitterness of the skyline.
"So no alliance with us?"
The king pondered a little, for the first time seriously wondering if such a thing was possible.
"I'll take that as a "No,"" quipped Eartaria, misreading the king's pensiveness for disinterest. "Is there no other message I can take back?"
"You're our enemy, why would we let you return?" laughed the king, as his mood lightened, enjoying the chance to remind his impetuous acquaintance what the true situation was. "I'll be returning," insisted Eartaria, reactively, his feisty words bringing a touch more amusement. "You can return, you're not worth keeping. Besides, it might be useful to have at least one channel open. The King of Tunid certainly has enough of his own. We'll be keeping the guard you've brought us though."
"Keep him," mocked Eartaria, his pique rescinding, "..we have the king's son."
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