~Year 990
The High King erects a monument in honor of the deceased High King.
-The Royal Archives, History of Vallarta.
"Leaving already?" Turace asked as he watched Lord Rina rise to his feet.
"Your Majesty seems to have taken a liking for my tent, in which case, I shall just leave it to you then." He replied as he strode out.
Turace watched Lord Rina leave, a small smile settled on his lips as he took another sip of the chamomile tea, he lingered for a short while longer, reveling in the short moment he had with the cold, unfeeling warrior.
"He does have a sense of humor...I would never have thought." Turace murmured to himself as he downed the rest of the tea, rising to his feet and exiting the tent.
Turace strolled leisurely through the camp, it was just a little past the crack of dawn and the camp was completely quiet, save for the soldiers on patrol duty.
