#ramthread

For all the pomp and circumstance about Argonia, they did have quite a nice palace. Not as wondrous as Casther's, of course, but it did impress Ram all the same.

For a people he associated with a strong military and ruthless cunning, though, they seemed to know how to relax, if their saunas and bathhouses were any indication. Soldiers did need to decompress, he guessed...

Ram, in a sauna, nude as the day he'd been born and cruising for suitors. Groundbreaking.

He didn't quite expect the luck he would run into today, however, finding none other than the crown prince of Sollia in his midst. A big game hunter, Ram apparently chose to be this afternoon.

Ram plays it cool, waiting until the young man is seated beside him in the warm chamber to speak. An admirable level of restraint, he thought.

The routine of being king bored Ram to no end. How he wished he could be enjoying his life, indulging any whim that so took him while someone else performed all his duties as the ruler of Casther...

Why did he need to be the firstborn?

In any event, his duties awaited, chief among them his weekly meeting with his arcane advisor.

Unfortunately, he could not be located this morning, which meant going down the line of magical succession to Seraphim.

Ram hated being king. Made him miserable.

Unfortunately for him, though, he actually had a natural talent for it. Ruling. Being a figurehead for an entire kingdom of people. Why did Terra curse him this way?!

In any event, following the reunification of Metia, Ram found himself doing lots of diplomacy abroad, particularly meeting his fellow kings across the lands. They all seemed perfectly fine, respectable, and cooperative. A bit boring and vanilla for his taste, but alas.

Except Aurelius.

That man... he had some sort of heat on him. Danger, even. He heard the tales of his origins through the grapevine; that he'd been a pirate or something before claiming his throne. What he'd give to be the pirate king's prized piece of booty—

And then he remembers he is sitting in a meeting with the other man, in the royal sitting room reserved for guests of the monarch. He needs to be chaste.

Ram hated lots of aspects about being king, but chief among them were these stupid balls. Inane gatherings of very little substance, wherein he —and his lovely queen— were expected to show their faces to the Metian elite. The pomp and circumstance of it all sickened him. Sure, peace could be a lovely thing, but did he need to travel all the way here to celebrate it?

(Assuming it even lasted to begin with...)

But if these events had any merit to them, they served as opportunities for himself and his spouse to find potential new sexual partners. So, not nothing.

"I would ask if you've had your eyes on the prowl for men of interest," Ram begins, speaking to his low, usual growl in Amrit's ear as they moved together on the dance floor, his hands firmly —not but quite possessively— settled at the his spouse's hips. As much as it annoyed him to perform these little gestures when he would much, much rather be the one they were performed on, people expected a king to lavish over his queen. They all had roles to play.