So this is how things work?
Well, Dante wasn't worried, but… Perhaps… Some people of great stature were a bit desperate...
His throne was ancient, perhaps it could be called rustic, forged in metal and amber-lit purple, carved with calm and grace.
"Are you sure you're going to this meeting, Father?" A dwarf questioned the King, the one who clearly knew his father well.
"Clovis, don't give me that… You gave up on chasing that boy, and now you don't want to go see him? You still have that spear to deliver to him, you know?" Baskev said, smiling at his son, who turned away.
"I gave up because it wasn't good enough." He commented.
Baskev let out a low laugh, echoing through the hall.
"You've always been a perfectionist, Clovis," Baskev remarked, his voice carrying a mix of pride and exasperation. "But I expected more from you in this case. The boy, Dante… he's not someone who can be ignored or brushed aside so easily."
