Snippet #1701940

Rourke cracked his massive knuckles. Behind his helm, his white eyes held a death glare. Occidens. Greedy, war-mongering bastards is what they are. Probably want to watch the world burn while they sit on their high horses looking down on the conquered. Not if I have anything to say about it. His eyes shifted to the Princess. He felt protective again, only with a heightened sense of danger. If any of the Occidens would try to attack her, he would most likely rip them limb from limb. Marcus had mentioned a banquet. And in Anatoli no less. What if one of their nobles intends to take out Mitsuki? Her condition could send her into a battle of life and death in her very body. I cannot allow that, but I can't let her father know what's happening. Returning his gaze beneath his helm back to the king he adressed him formally.

"My King, what would happen if tha Anatolian nobles decide to attempt a coup? Even if this is dipla'matic in meanin', people are people. If they sense they have a grasp a' powah, then they might take it."