The Estate, Sidra, Glacia, Saturday Evening Fandom Time
Some days, Warren found himself drowning in paperwork. Some days, he walked into his office to be faced with a stack of petitions to Glacia's Consort that was so high he was pretty sure he would never see the bottom.
Today, incidentally, was not one of those days. He'd run through all of the paperwork on his desk two, three, four times just to be thorough, had even gone so far as to write thank you notes to those Queens and Consorts in other Courts to thank them for their attendance at this official function or that one. Karla was busy elsewhere, his phone battery was dead, and Warren had gotten to that point in the day where all there was to do was sit and pass the time by drumming his fingertips on the top of his desk.
It was fortunate that the Court Steward, Lord Mallory, stuck his head into Warren's office before he could drum some gouges into the wood.
"My Lord," he said, clutching a stack of paperwork to his chest, "Lady Karla would like me to remind you that if you're late for dinner and leave her entertaining alone again, she'll tie you to the General and throw the both of you into a closet."
Warren gave a wry chuckle in response to that, gesturing to his empty desk.
"That shouldn't be an issue. I have a few hours to kill yet, and nothing to kill them with." A beat. "What do you have there?"
Mallory looked at his own stack of papers, and then gave his head a shake, even as Warren pulled himself up from his seat to investigate.
"Nothing of any importance tonight, Lord. Merely the sort of correspondence that I've taken the liberty of separating out from the papers that actually need to make it to your desk."
Warren pursed his lips a little as he leaned over the stack. Considering the one on the top was addressed to, 'That Landen Bastard of a Consort,' he could wager a guess as to what the rest of the stack contained.
"Why not leave those with me anyway? It'll help me kill some time, at least. And I'll get a chance to see where I stand in the eyes of the general public, these days."
Mallory's expression suggested that he didn't think it was one of Warren's better ideas, but he wasn't going to argue with the Consort. He tended to do his damnedest to keep out of the way of Warren's baleful glares as much as possible.
"If you wish, my Lord, but do keep in mind that these letters aren't representative of Glacia's most rational people."
"It'll be just like looking at hashtags on Twitter," Warren replied, smiling faintly as he was met with a puzzled glance from the Steward. "I can handle it."
A few minutes and a few more cautionary statements from Mallory later, and Warren was sitting at his desk again, leafing through the mail with one eyebrow raised. He supposed be probably shouldn't have been surprised that 'Landen Bastard' wasn't the worst insult the locals had come up with, and he even set aside a few letters addressed to Karla that were obviously written with the intent of turning her against him in order to give a 'real Blood male' a chance at his position. They could laugh at them together later. Or, at least, make a mental note between them to laugh behind their backs at social functions.
Not that they were petty.
It was a letter about halfway down the stack that managed to actually grab Warren's attention, all of the rest aside. Written in a childish hand, it was one of the few letters that actually used his name, and though it was from outside of the Territory, there was something about a small child writing to the Consort of Glacia that made it difficult to set aside.
A few minutes later still, and he was stalking out into the hallway again, letter in hand, wings mantled, and bristling.
"Mallory! What the Hell were you thinking!?"
Mallory was not having a good day.
[OOC: For one!]
Today, incidentally, was not one of those days. He'd run through all of the paperwork on his desk two, three, four times just to be thorough, had even gone so far as to write thank you notes to those Queens and Consorts in other Courts to thank them for their attendance at this official function or that one. Karla was busy elsewhere, his phone battery was dead, and Warren had gotten to that point in the day where all there was to do was sit and pass the time by drumming his fingertips on the top of his desk.
It was fortunate that the Court Steward, Lord Mallory, stuck his head into Warren's office before he could drum some gouges into the wood.
"My Lord," he said, clutching a stack of paperwork to his chest, "Lady Karla would like me to remind you that if you're late for dinner and leave her entertaining alone again, she'll tie you to the General and throw the both of you into a closet."
Warren gave a wry chuckle in response to that, gesturing to his empty desk.
"That shouldn't be an issue. I have a few hours to kill yet, and nothing to kill them with." A beat. "What do you have there?"
Mallory looked at his own stack of papers, and then gave his head a shake, even as Warren pulled himself up from his seat to investigate.
"Nothing of any importance tonight, Lord. Merely the sort of correspondence that I've taken the liberty of separating out from the papers that actually need to make it to your desk."
Warren pursed his lips a little as he leaned over the stack. Considering the one on the top was addressed to, 'That Landen Bastard of a Consort,' he could wager a guess as to what the rest of the stack contained.
"Why not leave those with me anyway? It'll help me kill some time, at least. And I'll get a chance to see where I stand in the eyes of the general public, these days."
Mallory's expression suggested that he didn't think it was one of Warren's better ideas, but he wasn't going to argue with the Consort. He tended to do his damnedest to keep out of the way of Warren's baleful glares as much as possible.
"If you wish, my Lord, but do keep in mind that these letters aren't representative of Glacia's most rational people."
"It'll be just like looking at hashtags on Twitter," Warren replied, smiling faintly as he was met with a puzzled glance from the Steward. "I can handle it."
A few minutes and a few more cautionary statements from Mallory later, and Warren was sitting at his desk again, leafing through the mail with one eyebrow raised. He supposed be probably shouldn't have been surprised that 'Landen Bastard' wasn't the worst insult the locals had come up with, and he even set aside a few letters addressed to Karla that were obviously written with the intent of turning her against him in order to give a 'real Blood male' a chance at his position. They could laugh at them together later. Or, at least, make a mental note between them to laugh behind their backs at social functions.
Not that they were petty.
It was a letter about halfway down the stack that managed to actually grab Warren's attention, all of the rest aside. Written in a childish hand, it was one of the few letters that actually used his name, and though it was from outside of the Territory, there was something about a small child writing to the Consort of Glacia that made it difficult to set aside.
A few minutes later still, and he was stalking out into the hallway again, letter in hand, wings mantled, and bristling.
"Mallory! What the Hell were you thinking!?"
Mallory was not having a good day.
[OOC: For one!]