I believe we'll both have a much more pleasant meeting for it.
[They're both already like to be busy with analyzing one another, trying to see through to the other's true motives— even when speaking as equals, there is no telling what another's true agenda may be, and lordship often seems to be an endless game of dodging political machinations.
He inclines his head and steps to one side, gesturing towards the large set of double doors ahead of them, his guards fanning out as two step forward to hold them open.]
Please, right this way. Let's go somewhere more comfortable.
[ Vayne steps through the double doors. His head lifts as he admires the architecture and beauty that surrounds them. It has a warm and comforting feeling that permeates through everything -- much like the smiles and laughter of the people drift through the crowds in the city.
He folds his arms behind his back as he walks through the hallways. Of course, he would pause every so often to look down at the intricate patterns on the flooring and ceilings.
The whole affair feels formal and proper, despite agreeing to walk and treat each other as equals. He would pause to give something like an apologetic smile to the other lord, before proceeding to the private room so that they could talk.
When the doors close, he finally drops his arms down. ]
I'm certain you are curious why I came here myself instead of sending some messenger. Of course, you probably already guessed what I am about to say is far too precious and damning to allow anyone to carelessly know it. [ He gets right down to business -- but walks to the nearest chair to sit down. ]
But first... what are your thoughts of the contest that we now find ourselves in?
[As the heavy door to the room closes in full, attendants having already been dismissed, some degree of tension leaves Lord Dohalim's frame, as well. He did not make a practice of standing on pretense; there was nothing false about the warm but formal welcome he had offered Lord Vayne, and so little else in his manner changes now that they have privacy— but it is a relief, not to have to worry about so many ears listening in.
He is appreciative of all his staff, but he knows there are a handful among them who are not quite so open to change as others. He would rather not give them any further reason to doubt him.]
That you came yourself speaks to the matter's importance.
[He gestures to the chair Vayne approaches to encourage him, settling into one opposite it himself, legs crossed as he brings his hands to rest lightly against the arms.
The question is a good one, certainly, and he wonders how honestly he should answer.]
The contest has been a mainstay of our society for centuries now. Culturally, I understand its import... but in truth, I have no interest in winning such a contest. Politics have never been my passion.
[ Vayne lets out a breath, at first, like he has been holding it. He lets himself sink down in the chair, folding his hands on top of his knee and interlacing his fingers. Everything is practiced; everything is its own act with some truth in it. ]
I heard rumblings of that being the case. [ His chin dips in a small nod before he brings his head down to give a slight bow. He closes his eyes as a means to convey a quiet apology for looking into Dohalim, even if that is something that the other lords would -- and should -- do. ]
Politics is not something that I want to dabble in, either, but it is something that has been thrust upon me. "House Solidor must remain strong." A mantra that has been spoken many times over to me. [ But a mantra that has deep meaning to it. ]
I feel the two of us share a lot in common in our desires not to win. [ Another pause settles in. ] In my contest to become lord, I was pitted against my brothers. Both of them were felled by my hand. [ He turns his own hand over, looking at the palm, before interlacing his fingers once again. ]
The tragedy we've endured to be chosen... we will not be the last to suffer it. Our family, our children... they will one day be forced to do the same. [ Vayne goes quiet and waits; he waits to hear what the man has to say before he will press in for "the kill," as it were. ]
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no subject
[They're both already like to be busy with analyzing one another, trying to see through to the other's true motives— even when speaking as equals, there is no telling what another's true agenda may be, and lordship often seems to be an endless game of dodging political machinations.
He inclines his head and steps to one side, gesturing towards the large set of double doors ahead of them, his guards fanning out as two step forward to hold them open.]
Please, right this way. Let's go somewhere more comfortable.
no subject
He folds his arms behind his back as he walks through the hallways. Of course, he would pause every so often to look down at the intricate patterns on the flooring and ceilings.
The whole affair feels formal and proper, despite agreeing to walk and treat each other as equals. He would pause to give something like an apologetic smile to the other lord, before proceeding to the private room so that they could talk.
When the doors close, he finally drops his arms down. ]
I'm certain you are curious why I came here myself instead of sending some messenger. Of course, you probably already guessed what I am about to say is far too precious and damning to allow anyone to carelessly know it. [ He gets right down to business -- but walks to the nearest chair to sit down. ]
But first... what are your thoughts of the contest that we now find ourselves in?
no subject
He is appreciative of all his staff, but he knows there are a handful among them who are not quite so open to change as others. He would rather not give them any further reason to doubt him.]
That you came yourself speaks to the matter's importance.
[He gestures to the chair Vayne approaches to encourage him, settling into one opposite it himself, legs crossed as he brings his hands to rest lightly against the arms.
The question is a good one, certainly, and he wonders how honestly he should answer.]
The contest has been a mainstay of our society for centuries now. Culturally, I understand its import... but in truth, I have no interest in winning such a contest. Politics have never been my passion.
no subject
I heard rumblings of that being the case. [ His chin dips in a small nod before he brings his head down to give a slight bow. He closes his eyes as a means to convey a quiet apology for looking into Dohalim, even if that is something that the other lords would -- and should -- do. ]
Politics is not something that I want to dabble in, either, but it is something that has been thrust upon me. "House Solidor must remain strong." A mantra that has been spoken many times over to me. [ But a mantra that has deep meaning to it. ]
I feel the two of us share a lot in common in our desires not to win. [ Another pause settles in. ] In my contest to become lord, I was pitted against my brothers. Both of them were felled by my hand. [ He turns his own hand over, looking at the palm, before interlacing his fingers once again. ]
The tragedy we've endured to be chosen... we will not be the last to suffer it. Our family, our children... they will one day be forced to do the same. [ Vayne goes quiet and waits; he waits to hear what the man has to say before he will press in for "the kill," as it were. ]