Stand In the Sun

Harlan supposed there was something to say for the...enclosed space of the study. It was comfortable and easily defensible, even if he despised what it represented.

He cut his eyes at the door at the knock. "Enter," he ordered. If it had been anyone unexpected, his guards at the door would have entered and announced his company, so he could only assume it was his Warden. "You don't need to knock, Wolfram," he added, pausing long enough to look her over. Sometimes, he questioned the lack of heavier armor.

"I don't believe I have never not been 'bothered' in this room," he mused dryly. He turned his attention inward again and continued to pace. Had it been anyone else, he might have forced himself to sit, but he didn't make it a habit to hide anything from his Warden, even some of his poorer habits. "I wrote that bastard directly. Through personal channels. Least he could do is send me a bloody 'fuck you' so I know where we stand," he grumbled. He didn't hide his poor language either, though it was of note that Harlan rarely swore unless alone AND properly angry. And yes, he was calling his imperial majesty, Emperor of all of Taknier, a 'bastard.' He didn't care. In private, at least.

Harlan took a deep breath and glanced out the window. If he wasn't so angry a walk would be a better idea.

Harlan himself cared a lot for proper dress. In the center of his own home, private or not, he preferred to dress well, but dress down. He didn't need to call anymore attention to himself.

He glanced over her at the sigh and raised an eyebrow. He didn't need judgement, he needed answers. Not that she could give them to him. He was not opposed to starting another war. But the guards in the north seemed to have little effect against the much less organized and less disciplined raiders. They didn't stay still and even when they want a direct fight, their tactics were hit and run. It wasn't going to end well, but he didn't see another way. "A monarch suffers the burdens of their people. Or some bullshit," he observed. He did mostly mean the first part, with the second only added due to his frustration.

The last letter he sent? "Wolfram, you don't seriously believe the man has ever held a pen in his life?" To be fair, he probably had. But even when Harlan wrote personally, he assumed the "demi god" ruler had Harlan's notes read to him and then dictated. Regardless, the last "personal" letter he had received was... "Last summer?" Over a year ago. Before the man's intended heir died. He had expected a void of news for a while. But as far as he understood it, Taknieri didn't mourn for that long. Perhaps he was being insensitive, but the man had other potential heirs. "We were discussing marriage proposals. Before all these raids began."

He had wondered if it was coincidence that Taknier had gone silent when the raids began. But now...he wondered if perhaps the Lutrians were smarter than he thought, taking advantage of the lack of communication. With another look out the window, he gave in. "Wall with me," he ordered, leading them out of the study. He felt immediately better. There was still a weight to his shoulders, but it wasn't nearly so heavy.

Unsurprisingly, Harlan was involved with his children on a more...official level than a personal one. When they were young, he spent some time with them, but they were largely seen to by nannies and tutors and the like. Harlan loved his children and it always made him proud to see them learn and achieve on their own just as he did. If he were to lose one of them, especially his son...he would be rather beside himself. Frustrated, angry. A father should never have to bury a child, after all. But life and ruling continued no matter who you were or who you buried.

The guards at the door were inclined to stay put. It was a sort of precaution and distraction, to guard the study and his bedroom chambers at all times. There were plenty of Red Guards on patrol and stationed throughout the palace as it was and being accompanied by his Warden was guard enough.

He nodded almost absently at her suggestion to speak openly and then grimaced at her words. He was aware. But declaring outright war wasn't about to make people less antsy. Or maybe it would. There couldn't be that many of the tribesmen left could there? It should be a quick battle. If it wasn't about to be winter. There was something to say too for fighting against a people descended from their same origins. They could be family. If not for the bloodshed.

"And a declaration of war, while it solves some concerns, only heightens others," he noted, side stepping whether he intended to do such or not, though given his track record, he was not opposed. "How is your family in the north?" He asked quickly without giving time to discuss the option of war. What he asked, however, was not unrelated. Knowing how his northern Prince was handling the territory and the invaders was important, but here, he sought to hear from his Warden about her close and extended family in the area. It was technically a personal question.

There was nothing they could do for the season. It was the world they lived in constantly most of the year. People were used to snow and storms and bad weather. Not that being used to something made accomplishing goals like moving troops or supplies any easier. It just made them more resigned to it. 

Harlan nodded at her words. Nothing he wasn't aware of. "Specifically?" He half asked, half ordered. Of course he was dealing with 'issues with the nomads' but being vague hardly helped anyone. Last he had heard, there were not raids this far south. Not yet.

He refrained from waving off the comment about her brother's death. He was not insensitive, but he was not the sort to let such things prevent him from doing his job or otherwise alter his mindset. The loss of his own older brother, the true heir to the throne, had been an ordeal, making him not empathetic. But Harlan compartmentalized and moved on years ago. Dwelling on such things was for weak minded individuals who had not built firm enough foundations, to their own detriment. If he was being honest, Harlan did not remember the anniversary of his brother's death. Or his father's. Their funerals had been public and continued to be national days of mourning. Somber 'holidays' he could not avoid. 

"Cold kills more soldiers than arrows ever will," he mused. That was written somewhere. Certainly not his own clever words though the gravity sat well enough.

"And your children?" He asked after a moment, this time actually for polite familiar conversation. He was aware of the woman's general relationship and that her service to him was part of it. But he was not apologetic. 

They moved through the hallway toward one of the internal courtyards. Rising behind them was the massive tree, it's branches reaching out over the colonnade they stepped out of. The courtyard was small. Private. Not for public visitors as it abetted some of the private bed chambers. They passed through a tressel and lined hedges. 

Harlan met only occasionally with the rulers of each region, even his distant second cousin who was nearer than most. He wrote more letters than anything these days considering how prolonged travel no longer agreed with him. The Duke of Ramberaht he had been keeping closer correspondence with considering the raids, though he was assured things were under control, at least from getting further out of hand. He'd sent a contingent of scouts as aid anyway. "Old bastard always did worry too much," Harlan agreed, though he did give the man's concern weight. Should the nomads manage to push further, he wouldn't hesitate to move all the mountains and men at his disposal. Regardless, he still found Tobias' seasonal anxiety bothersome. Harlan had lost those close to him as well, namely his own brother. One didn't see him losing it over the merest whisper of bygone memories. His Warden and cousin could have their grief, as long as it did not alter their judgement. "Much as I despise stooping to meet them, it's time we send an envoy. See how far the raiders are willing to go."

He supplied a simple nod again as she spoke of her children. That seemed to lighten the subject a little. That small smile and sharp look in her eyes reminded him precisely why he liked Lotte so much. Certainly, he had chosen the woman for her unique input and fighting prowess, but he would be remiss not to admit to the other advantages of having a woman by his side. She threw men off in more ways than one and made woman just that little bit more comfortable. All without him having to do a thing.

"Light forbid the architects put a roof over the throne room," he mused of the space they left behind, only to move into the courtyard that was just as cold. The closer heavy stone walls and hedges provided an illusion of coziness at least. He moved past the rooms, the unshaded lights within suggesting most of his children and perhaps the queen consort herself were out and about.

Hearing her brother was doing more and more was reassuring. Just because Harlan was older than the Prince of Dunmar did not curb his thinking of the man losing his edge in recent years. At least Lotte's brother seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. "I do. I ever get that way myself, promise me you'll make my end quick," he said, the joke delivered serious and dry. He didn't really mean it but it was easy to tease his cousin, even had he been here in person.

Harlan snorted. He was aware enough to know a little bit of fresh air would do nothing for his dark soul. But that was what made the joke.

"The Prince seems to have settled in at home again finally." The boy clearly preferred being abroad. Feeling free of duty he suspected. "I need to find himself something more productive to focus on than dances." Engaged or not, the young man needed more focus and less unimportant distractions. "Both the girls have me at wits end and I've a mind to promise their hand to Lutra at this rate." Another serious joke.

It was nice to walk and talk for a bit to get a bit more personal again. He felt he needed it, with everything coming to a head. There wouldn't be room for joking soon.