K i n g
L O C A T I O N | Illyria | Dragonne Palace
T A G S | Palm-Imer
"It will be the brightest jewel in the known galaxy." -King Adron Malvern
The morning had been filled with monotony. Something that the King of Illyria hated with a burning hatred. The Royal Assembly Hall which was home to the Illyrian throne was the primary meeting point of the Aristocracy. As it was not the official meeting point of the actual government, the High Court, it served the purpose of being a bit more detached from the view of the Chancellors and their benefactors, making it easier for the King to levy his commands as needed without a committee being birthed from every discussion. The chamber itself was a massive atrium with a glasteel ceiling. Ornate columns rose from the ground, surrounding the main floor that was set before the throne. Exquisite patterns of amethyst and gold flew from one side of the room to another, with the long flowing banners of the Royal House Malvern flying proudly behind the throne. The Gruesome Wolf gazed out over all people who entered into the chamber with a look of pure scrutiny.
Most people were formed in neat groups behind the columns, awaiting their time to speak with the King or interact with any members of the Court that were in attendance. The King was not seated in his ornate throne. No, he had a desk pulled into the center of the room so that the things they settled this day could be committed to paper and properly recorded and filed.
The average Noble who came seeking the King's audience came with open hands hoping to receive their Lord's favor and assistance in some matter that was beyond him. Most days, Adron turned the lesser nobles to their Overlord's, the Viscount's who were the peak of the Aristocracy and acted as the harbingers of Adron's will. Yet, when it was a Viscount who came before the court with a matter that he could not handle, the King took that seriously. So most of the morning was spent sorting between the two. Some were offered private appointments later in the day while others were offered other avenues of seeing their problems solved.
Adron's pen scratched into the paper he'd been looking over, his thin raven locks falling over his eyes as he silently muttered to himself. He wore a pair of shimmersilk trousers that were a deep shade of slate, however the surcoat to match had been slung across the back of the chair he'd sat in. He had been continually writing and recording the entirety of the morning, which had began well before the sun rose over the horizon. The hall was quiet, it usually was. In fact, in this moment as one of his Viscount's stood before him, the only thing that could be heard was the scratching of the metallic pen in Adron's hand. "There." The King said evenly, turning his eyes up from the paper. The Viscount had been kneeling before him, patiently waiting for the King to solve the matter placed before him. "This will offer you three months of tax immunity based on your hardship. If you have not reversed the state of your lands in that time then the consequences will be your own to suffer." The King's eyes were particular and calculating, but not without a certain interest to them. He had jewel-like amethyst eyes that gazed out over the man with a certain expression of discontent. He turned his eyes back to his desk, taking a small metallic device from the oaken desk and pressing it firmly into the bottom of the parchment. When he drew back there was a wolves head stamped into the paper. "Dismiss yourself from these halls until your honor is intact." The King said while holding the paper out to the Viscount.
"Oui, votre Majesté." Yes, your Majesty. The man spoke back in High Illyria, his head remaining bowed as he departed the hall.
The King sighed, before turning his eyes to one of the members of his Royal Guard. The armored Knight bowed his head in acknowledgement to some unseen question that stemmed from his King's gaze.
So his time was up then was it? He'd done enough work this morning, now his mind must shift to the next duty of a King. Passing by the chair he'd sat in, he pulled his surcoat from it while making his way towards the throne. The hall seemed to have a sudden shift as a group of servants rushed out, picking up the desk the King had been sitting at and ushering it out of the room as efficiently as could be managed.
The room's shift went from one of pure business to an air of ceremony as well. The Royal Guard took their positions, standing before each of the eight columns with their hands resting upon the hilts of their weapons. At Adron's throne was a peculiar sight. Two young Illyrian Shadow Wolf Pups. They were the size of kaath hounds, yet they sat obediently beside each side of the throne in silence. Their eyes were also jewel-like shades of amethyst, identical to the King's own eyes.
As Adron climbed the steps to the throne, fastening the links to his cuffs, he could not help but reach out with the Force.
Who would be the first guest? He wondered. There were a few who had been invited to the Royal Palace. Some to discuss matters of state, others to discuss matters of finance, and the rest came for a myriad of reasons.
There was a Chamberlain who stepped forward, wearing long flowing robes of ivory and ebony. He cleared his throat before calling out. "All hail his majesty. Adron of the House Malvern, High Lord of Illyria and King of the High Court."
"His majesty now invites his honored guests to step forward." The man said, gesturing to the center of the room. "Now introducing,
Palm-Imer
of the planet Geminidae."
The King turned his eyes to his invited guest and held out a hand towards the woman. "Welcome to Illyria."