The Call North
Reshemhetari looked out over his delegation, a light smile gracing his lips.
This was a triumph, and he'd have to make a note of it, one to huge success.
It was hard to overstate his satisfaction, helming a trade mission match that of the Northeners.
Of course, this was far more than a trade mission. Most of the trade mission was really just a whole bunch of noble daughters aiming to marry into the political structures of the Northeners, and Reshemhetari couldn't blame them.
After all, he had seen her standing across the way, not saying much, but there was something about her, Reshemhetari didn't know what, that made him want to try, made him want to kiss the girl.
So here he was, doing what he must, because he could. It was for the good of all of us, excepting those that were dead, of course.
The king met him, along with that tall pale and mad girl, who sure fought a mean fight.
Reshemhetari knew there was something going on in the background. He didn't really care for it, and neither did his opposite, clearly. But there were formalities to be observed, and so they joined him for dinner in a cozy hall, in a provincial palace or something within a city that kinda left him struck dumb for half a step.
Come to think of it, so did that tall, pale, mad girl, but that was probably the magic talking.
Finally, as the nobles and their new wives began to file out, the hall cleared to just the two kings and the girl.
She rasped out:
"The crows have left me. He is responsible."
The wizened king tilted his head, momentarily taken aback.
"Are you sure of this?"
"Yes, King, yes."
The kings let their face fall into their palms, albeit for wildly differing reasons.
"Son, there's something you should know."
Reshemhetari made a vaguely assenting grunting noise, attempting to will his sudden onset fever down.
"As Yenyna here has been given to the temples and the priests, she has become a Ward of the State, and thus my responsibility. If I understand where this is going correctly, you two are going to be inseperable. I will skip the usual father-suitor negotiations and threats to simply advise you not to make her angry, as you will likely rapidly find your genitals as flat as her, or your precious flood plains."
Reshemhetari temporarily spiked over a hundred degrees, but then rapidly dropped as the implications dawned on him. His wives (especially their fathers) back home would not be pleased if that happened.
"N-noted, sir. Thank you for your kindness."
And then the doors flung open.
"Sir! News from the North! The Lightning Wolves have attacked!"
Reshemhetari almost missed it. A look of dawning horror flashing across the wizened king, before he snapped his face into a grim line, expanding his presence with every purposeful step he took.
There existed enemies that made these Demons of the North scared?
He almost didn't register Yenyna dragging him in a headlock to the door, because for the second time when dealing with these Northeners,
Reshemhetari found himself terrified, but
aroused.