"It seems I do not have a choice," King James Burchard said at last, the words dragged from him like something heavy and unwilling. "As long as you keep your word to restore order in my kingdom… I will aid you in whatever way that I can."
The room stilled, and for a moment, even the air seemed to stop and listen. Then Elric smiled, not broadly or warmly, he smiled just enough to give away that he had expected this all along.
"I'm glad," the silver-haired king said, his tone as smooth as polished steel, "that you've come to see things my way, James."
He rose from his seat with unhurried grace and stepped forward, placing a hand on the Gavarian king's shoulder. The gesture might have passed as friendly, if not for the quiet weight behind it. It was a touch that did not ask, it claimed.
"We will move the moment I hear from the Snowlands," Elric continued. "Until then, rest. You and your company must be exhausted."
He turned his head slightly. "Theo will see to your accommodations."
