The Emperor accepted the drink with a nod, his face betraying no emotion. "The future of Arcanoria lies in capable hands," he said simply, casting a sidelong glance at Izan, who inclined his head respectfully.
More nobles gathered, their praise unending.
Izan fielded their comments with practiced ease, though his gaze kept drifting toward Elian, ensuring he was comfortable.
When a particularly persistent noblewoman offered Izan yet another toast, he accepted with a strained smile, his hand reaching under the table to lightly brush Elian's.
Elian noticed the gesture, his lips curving into a faint smile as he leaned closer to whisper, "must you accept all the toast?"
"No, but I have to." Izan replied softly, "it's part of my duty being their future rulers." His voice was warm, before straightening as the next noble approached.
