"Your Majesty, I've figured out your problem."
Thane knelt somberly before the emperor's desk, gazing up at his master intently. The poor knight's expression was practically screaming, 'ask me what it is!'.
"... Alright, I'll bite," Calix sighed, letting the documents in his hands flutter back onto the tabletop. "What is my problem?"
"What a bold way to speak to your emperor," Ira scoffed from the far corner, buried behind piles of paper.
The other two men had grown used to their irritable friend's ways and knew that, though his tone was harsh, he really just wanted to be included with the conversation.
"Your clothes," Thane announced, pointing an accusing finger to the emperor's half-exposed chest.
"My… clothes," Calix shook his head.
Fortunately, he was growing bored of paperwork, or he would have put an end to Thane's foolishness at that very moment.
