I know they're always threading, but I'm bored and also lazy. >_> Maybe I'll use the sword icon.
Matthrew had been preoccupied with business since the city had been set to riot months ago, after Celia Stark Tyrell's demise and shortly after which the twin princesses had disappeared to parts unknown. Kidnapped, some said, and even though others would not voice their agreement, there was something in their silent reply that was more agreement than protest. That would have been the most likely answer, too, but there had been no demands made upon the crown, and so the mystery remained. He'd done his fair share of leading parties to question small folk and such, although his efforts had yet to yield any success.
This time when he'd returned to the city, he's discovered a letter that had been left for him by his cousin, Gareth. He was returning North, although whether that meant north in general or the Dreadfort in specific, it did not say. While he probably should have been outraged, it was only a minor annoyance. If Gareth had waited two days, perhaps between the two of them they could have drugged Jemni enough to throw her into the back of a wagon to cart her back to the Dreadfort. After a moment, he realized that Kyra was probably annoyed enough for the both of them.
After a moment of insisting language with the maid, Matthrew was admitted to Kyra's chambers. The picture of her on the divan, arm draped over her eyes was almost a comic one, although he knew better than to laugh. No matter how much he would have liked to. "Well. I see you're taking the news well," he said dryly.