Eoin may have been surprised just how many failed those little tests. Lord Mehkal, for instance, thought himself above such petty politics. Mikino might have admired the idealism for what it was, but for such a practical man, it was awfully impractical of him to think he could survive here, let alone excel, without making such compromises. Mikino found himself making them constantly, and he was in a more privileged position than most. It had not always been the case, and he shared that fact now.
“I have been in your shoes, Lord Viorel. Not the infidelity, but for all the talk of it, the truth of the matter hardly amounted to anything of worth. I had a reputation before I ever met my lovely bride. And I, too, had my chance to court a Queen. Although she was not that back then. As it turned out, the best thing I could do for the good of our Queen and her Court was to withdraw myself from the pursuit of those affections.” He gave Eoin a small respite, turning to walk away as he spoke, seemingly absent in thought as to where exactly he wandered. Surely plenty of those memories led back to this very room and it was with a certain telling affection that he regarded certain of its decorations.
“Perhaps it is not for me to say what is and is not best for Sidonie de la Sidra, but nevertheless that is what is asked of me. I expect you to ask the same of yourself. Stop thinking about how lovely she is. Stop thinking about the way she smiles when she thinks she is being clever. And think about whether or not even the most reformed of scoundrels does her a disservice by associating himself with her. I never broke my vows to Melinda. I never touched another woman whilst promised to her. But that was seldom the tale told. The kindest among her new peers pitied her. You do a truly admirable job, even with the obstacle my talents provide, of presenting your case. But a reformation is a hard thing to sell.”