[Dinner that evening was, more or less, a large and festive banquet. Rushed in preparation, due to the abrupt appearance of one King Figaro and unexpected reappearance of the elder Princess Tycoon, but a charming and well-planned event nevertheless. Nobles from within Tycoon and surrounding sovereign nations came in by the droves. It was easy to get lost in them.
Edgar made note of that when he suffered having to listen to yet another joke at his expense from a nobleman that learned of the...confusion at the castle dungeons earlier that day. He'd lost the ability to smile by the tenth time some overly-wealthy windbag guffawed in his face. Citing something he couldn't even remember, he excused himself and headed towards one of the balconies. No one missed him in the post-dinner crowds. He was thankful for that, at least.
It was colder out there on the balcony thanks to the breeze from the sea, but it was still kind of warm -- not like the evenings back in Figaro. He'd been given a nice change of clothes, expensive and well-made of course, but far too thick for the balmy air. As kind as they were, the tailors in Tycoon were laughably ignorant of a desert king's preferences. He snorted and unbuttoned his shirt and removed his cape, muttering a few choice words to himself.]
[2/2]
Edgar made note of that when he suffered having to listen to yet another joke at his expense from a nobleman that learned of the...confusion at the castle dungeons earlier that day. He'd lost the ability to smile by the tenth time some overly-wealthy windbag guffawed in his face. Citing something he couldn't even remember, he excused himself and headed towards one of the balconies. No one missed him in the post-dinner crowds. He was thankful for that, at least.
It was colder out there on the balcony thanks to the breeze from the sea, but it was still kind of warm -- not like the evenings back in Figaro. He'd been given a nice change of clothes, expensive and well-made of course, but far too thick for the balmy air. As kind as they were, the tailors in Tycoon were laughably ignorant of a desert king's preferences. He snorted and unbuttoned his shirt and removed his cape, muttering a few choice words to himself.]
I really need to return to Figaro...