'Deo's dressed, almost as always, in sky blue, his red curls tied in a tail at the nape of his neck, but he's in denim and cotton with the most modern air.
"Amadeo Mayhew. Pleased to meet you at least, Sir."
"And I think that she weds me as much for my rather impressive collection of music as my claims to kingdoms on two separate worlds, one of which I can not reach and the other of which is wracked by war."
He's not entirely certain where to go from there, so offers,
"Bianca says that I should speak with you."
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"She's been telling me for long enough, but I've never had the pleasure."
He smiles.
"Arithon, I assume."
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He's a little bitty man, dark and dressed in clothing considered old fashioned almost anywhen people are from.
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"Amadeo Mayhew. Pleased to meet you at least, Sir."
He gestures to the seat opposite him.
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"Just Arithon, please. Bianca speaks of you often."
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"As you say. She's never done talking about you."
He smiles.
"The wedding is to be soon, she says."
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He spends several seconds being shell-shocked, then shakes it off,
"The coronation at the same time."
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"Coronation?"
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He looks wry, and shrugs,
"Some of the etctera would include Crown Prince of Karthan and Crown Prince of Rathain."
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He blinks, and stares a little.
"Huh. I don't remember my sister-in-blood telling me she's marrying a Prince."
Because, really? He's a little jealous.
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He points out dryly,
"And I think that she weds me as much for my rather impressive collection of music as my claims to kingdoms on two separate worlds, one of which I can not reach and the other of which is wracked by war."
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He's content with that knowledge. His voice is, after all, the best of his features.
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