ETAN
He was beginning to almost enjoy being placed at the back of the banquet hall—it allowed him a great deal more freedom than if he'd been placed near the other nobles and rulers, and their endless politicking. But he burned for the dishonor to his parents every time he was forced to enter the room and make his way back, to see his father seated with his own court, but nowhere near anyone else that might be of political help.
More agreements and alliances were formed at parties and feasts, than anywhere else, his father had taught him. The casual conversation with another ruler was never casual. Etan was wise to pay close attention.
Yet, here his parents were, restricted to the lesser nobles and advisors, while the other rulers gathered together near the head table.
It set Etan's teeth on edge.
"Stop scowling at people," his mother said quietly, not looking up from her plate.
