19 Chapter 19

You can check out my auxiliary chapter for the geography references :D

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He was on his way to attend a meeting with the leaders of Wanington, the second largest state of his country, Cadarama, population wise at least.

The largest was Waxingville, and it was known for it's tall, rich houses and it's low, rotting slums.

Wanington was where one of his fondest friends was from, Lord Dimitri, he was the son of the Premier and a well-respected young gentleman.

Wanington was in the middle regions of Cadarama and was of a more temperate climate. He entered the meeting hall where the premier, Premier Hector, and his two sons, Lord Dimitri and Lord Ariston.

The meeting hall was made of the familiar sandstone bricks which lined almost every hall and wall. The roof was supported by oak beams. In the middle of the room was a solid wooden table lined with six chairs on each side, at the head of the table sat his chair. Large, tall, open windows sat to the right of the table, the visitors' backs to them.

You could feel a light breeze and smell the salty scent of the ocean.

All three men's foreheads, and their servant's, were covered with a sheen of sweat.

The Sovereign strolled in.

"Good afternoon, Premier Hector."

The premier hastily stood and bowed to the Sovereign in the fashion of Wanington, his sons did the same.

"And the same to you, my Sovereign."

His sons said likewise.

He nodded his assent and he went to his seat at the head of the table and sat on the ornately carved wood.

The other three sat, their servants still standing.

"Premier, what concerns did you have?" He asked.

"My Sovereign, I humbly request that you send back the young woman of Wanington that were not selected." The premier answered.

'The girls…' that seemed vaguely familiar. He remembered having a conversation with someone about those girls.

"What will happen to the rest of the girls?" A sweet but stern voice said in his head, a pair of grey eyes staring at him skeptically.

'Ah, yes, Hydrangea. That foolish girl who didn't know when to stop talking. She'd mentioned something about the girls that were left. 'I don't quite remember how I replied.'

He shrugged it off.

"If I send the chosen of Wanington then I will be forced to send all of the other chosen as well, or it will be seen as an act of favouritism." He simply stated.

The premier's brow drew together in confusion, "If you'll pardon my asking, my Sovereign, why not just send all of them back?"

Yes, he could do that but… he felt like he'd made a deal with his queen-to-be about the girls.

"Very well. I will send the girls back, once the Union has been completed."

The premier wiped his forehead of sweat and tugged at his tight collar, "My thanks, my Sovereign."

He bowed his head in respect.

The Sovereign nodded.

He rose and the three men followed suit.

'No wonder they're finding it so warm, their clothes are ridiculous.' He thought to himself.

Since Wanington had such neutral weather, they were not used to the extreme humidity that was the Sovereign's island. The standard dress of Wanington's officials was a long, woollen tunic that reached their knees. Their trousers underneath were tucked into heavy leather boots.

In the lower regions and on the Sovereign's island the normal clothing was a thin white cotton shirt with a light tunic to go overtop in the colder months. Women would wear dresses of a thinner material than the northern regions would, but would still have to wear all of the required undergarments so the heat was still uncomfortable for them. The men wore woollen trousers and sandals.

For the Sovereign all he had to wear was an embroidered silk overcoat with an undershirt and thin cotton pants.

"You may stay as long as you need. Rooms have been prepared for you. You may follow Emon, my seneschal." He gestured to the bald man who had just entered through a side door at the far left of the room.

The men said their thanks and made their way to follow the old man.

The Sovereign left the room and turned to go back to his quarters.

As he rounded the corner he soon heard footsteps from behind.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw his friend Dimitri.

He entered one of his many private solars and Dimitri followed him.

As soon as the doors shut behind them he turned and faced his friend.

Dimitri was a year younger than him at the age of twenty-one. His brown hair was cut just above his shoulders lightly touching his stubbled jawline. His lips and black eyes were set in a playful expression.

"What?" He asked his friend as he poured them both refreshments.

"Oh, nothing." Dimitri replied as he began to roam around the room. A few of the curtains were drawn and so the room was lighted by some candles.

The Sovereign smirked at his friend, "Not happy with the deal I made with your father?" He quirked a brow.

Dimitri dusted a mantle off, "No, that's not it." He shook his head.

The Sovereign walked over and handed him his goblet, "Hmm, something to do with the upcoming Union?" He asked as he swirled the golden liquid in his cup.

"Hmm, maybe."

He waited for his friend to elaborate.

"Which woman did you choose? The one who made you feel good, or the one who made you think?" Dimitri asked as he looked him square in the face, a look of doubt on his face.

The Sovereign narrowed his eyes at him.

"Neither." He replied as he turned from the mantle and stood at one of the windows, observing the jungle below.

"Neither? What, was she the pretty one? Or, was she the smart one? You know, I've never quite figured you out, and what you like in a woman." His friend replied.

"This is not about what I find attractive in a woman, but about what kind of woman can lead in my mother's stead." He retorted.

"Ah, yes. How is our Beloved Queen. Is she enjoying her retirement?"

"Yes, she is."

"Hmm, so about this woman you've chosen, which one is she?" He asked propping his back against the wall next to the window.

"Why do you care?" The Sovereign replied as he shoved away from the window and moved to sit on one of the chairs.

"Fine, I'll see for myself at dinner tonight anyway." Dimitri said as he sat with a huff on the seat next to him.

The Sovereign paused in his drinking.

"No you won't." He said.

"Yes I will, why wouldn't I?" Dimitri questioned.

The Sovereign scratched the back of his neck, "Because she doesn't go to dinners."

"What! You've got to be joking. Why have you never invited her to a dinner before?" Dimitri asked, shocked at his friend's behaviour.

He'd always known him to be stiff and heartless in some areas, but come on, this was ridiculous.

"Fine, I'll invite her to dinner tonight!" The Sovereign said as he drained the last contents of his goblet and rose to his feet.

'This was gonna be fun.' He thought with a smirk.