“I read the document that I received via signal, but I want to see what you have here now.” King Proxem Vario’s sheathed blades swung lightly on each hip as he approached.
With blades, as trained by your own masters. It was just the two of them, facing each other over this decision. Historically, any other rule had been built or bent for such rare occasions as these.
The possibility of hope brushed Soleil’s otherwise neutral face, and she dropped the scroll a little further on its ribbon as he approached. She unshouldered Dusk-Arrow and let it rest at an angle to one side, tip to floor. The King Proxem stepped within the Princess Ascendant’s guard. She let the scroll drop to rest in her father’s outstretched palm.
Grant Vario took the scroll back a few paces with him. He undid the ribbon and pen, found the top of the text, and let the rest of the scroll fall gently open. It just barely brushed the floor. He felt the edges of the good vellum as he inched it up, reading. The collated sections glowed with fresh ink. Soleil felt the heft of the hollowed greatsword in her fastened grip. She gave the moment the time it needed.
“This is well crafted,” said the King Proxem. He hefted the pen and looked eye-to-eye with his daughter. “It’s very good.” He made sure the pen worked, then set it to the patch of rag in the signing frame and laid down his florid signature, the one for historical documents. King Proxem Grant Vario curlicued the final flourish, closed the pen, and softly laid the scroll down on the floor. Eyes on Soleil, he placed his hands on his weapons, breathing deeply. Soleil drew up and tightened her stance.