Elias was assigned to my household when the both of us were six, around the time my father took the throne. He has always been sharp, and as he has aged this has gotten the best of him. His days off find him pent up in the library, reading ancient tales of heroes, gods and monsters. Nevertheless, he had grown tall, lean, with toned shoulders and a trim physique from working in the stables. We've grown to be dear friends in his service to me, and my coronation last year has only strengthened our bond.
He enters briskly when I call for him, barely stopping after throwing open the drapes.
"Good morning, highness! Breakfast?" He points to a tray he brought in when I called for him. I wave it away with a hand.
"Suit yourself, Escalus." He pauses at my wardrobe, throws a tunic at my bare chest and wastes no time finding the rest of my clothes as I pull the tunic over my torso.
"Thank you." I manage to say. I find my washbasin and so far, the water does little to clear my mind for the day's affairs.
"You know." He muses, straightening the tangled sheets left in my wake, "you seem a bit distracted. I don't see why they can't work a peace treaty out themselves." He's seen enough that any pleasantries feel less respectful, if anything. "You could spend your day in your study, if you needed to, leave them squabble. Hmm?"
"They can't work it out themselves. That they are unable to settle anything when left alone is precisely why I must lead the negotiations. People die if I turn my back. Two children died. "
"So solemn. You're one man, you can't be expected to rid Verona of concern." He pats my now made-bed.
"Yes, Elias. Exactly. I am one man. And I am expected to do precisely that, so I will."
I pick up my circlet and place it on my brow, hoping the cool of the gold against my skin might grant me some focus. It doesn't.
"Gods, you say that as if you're abandoned on a battleship. Have you been sleeping?"
"Sleeping? Yes. Sleeping well? I cannot say..."
