#righteousglory

The meeting drags on slow and cautious--the blonde is simply staring at the parchment laid out before each member of the council, which includes nobility and of course, royalty. It seems that the Prince was asked to make his presence as well, as she glances up at the man, observing him carefully. He is there to live up to the Lightshield name, and nothing less. No eye contact. Here sits the man that she should be familiar with, but is not. 

She wonders if he can sense her staring. He did go on an expedition for two years to redeem his... qualities as a prince. She wonders what Jarvan IV is thinking. Does he find all of these matters secretly mundane? She does, but she hates to admit it, even to herself. She is an example for her people. The Lady straightens her back against the cushioned seat, making sure to seem prim and proper. 

The Demacian rubbed at eyes not once, not twice, but four times as she struggled to comprehend the golden figure before her. The Prince, fully armored and currently ravenously devouring all that was contained within her icebox, had somehow... Gotten in and....

“Uhm... Sir?” Quinn murmured hesitantly, as though her were not a man at all but a rabid wolf currently devouring the food. “....... I can cook something up, if you like... I can... I have better food than yesterday’s stew that I can offer you. Unless you like it, then help yourself!..... I guess.”

It was not often he found himself inside Demacia's borders, so he never expected to come across the crowned prince of the kingdom. He wasn't even in the capital, just one of the nearby towns, when he spotted said man. There were no good guesses that came to mind as to why Jarvan might be here, but Talon wasn't going to waste time trying to figure this out.

Now, a true Noxian would have looked at this as a golden opportunity for glory. Sneak close, slay the prince, return home with his head. Talon, however, knew the more likely outcome either involved him getting murdered for his attempt.. or, if successful, a public execution in his honor with a very large outcome. No, he had a better idea.

Stealth did come into play, but it was only to get closer. Survey the situation. Walking around in his cloak, decked out in daggers around these parts wasn't exactly the best way to keep a low profile. So, he had already dressed in more casual attire. It made it easy to blend in and remain unnoticed.

A part of him nagged that this was a bad idea. But he just couldn't pass this opportunity up. It begged for his introduction. When the opportune moment finally arose, Talon revealed himself at last, slipping out from the shadows at the prince's back. Just feet away from where Jarvan stood.

"..Well, well, if it isn't the crowned prince himself."

One could say that by their very nature, Demacia and Noxus were destined to be eternally conflicted. They were as different as night and day, water and oil, air and earth. But even during the worst of times, communication was held. Envoys were departed between the two city-states and afforded every privilege expected to a diplomat. As different as they were, they had one thing in common - they wanted to prove they were better.

Even during times of peace, it was necessary to keep communications firm. Demacia seeking to hold Noxus accountable for any perceived injustices committed. Noxus seeking to show its strength and make clear that in no uncertain terms would it be questioned in its sovereignty. And today, Noxus' newest emissary was due to arrive for a week-long stay, to hash out an accord on trade routes - and more specifically who would be held accountable if protection in the more tumultuous paths was not provided to traders and merchants.

As was tradition, the Noxians spotted a delegation sent to meet them as their carriage and riders approached the city limits. A hooded figure peaked out the window of the singular carriage. Well now, isn't that interesting, he thought to himself. We're being met by the prince himself.

The carriage rider stepped down, and rushed to open the door, bowing and letting the cloaked man step out from the confines of the vehicle. He was upper class, a part of the elite houses of Noxus, and carried himself with all the arrogance that entailed. Removing his cloak revealed white hair, pale porcelein skin and the finery that marked a man of incredible wealth. A black silken shirt, overlapped by a crimson-and-gold embroidered vest, dark black trousers and brightly polished boots of the same color.

The man turned to greet the delegation that awaited him, a pair of muscled Noxian brutes flanking his sides. He slid his hands into his pockets as he walked, his eyes downcast but a blissful smile marking his face. It wasn't until one of the brutes introduced him that his gaze lifted, to meet the Lightshield's gaze.

"Presenting Lord Vladimir Crowley of Noxus, first of his name and head of this delegation by decree of the Grand General."