Ísar was getting bored now.
He'd received so many greetings from so many faceless nobles and so many of their children. He was about to doze off on his chair when the young lord, Gaston, had finally decided to quit his hour long silent treatment.
"If you're so bored, why'd you even attend?"
Ísar lazily tilted his head to the right to look at the stern boy who was just drinking his juice in a tea cup and staring at the nobles who were just interacting and sitting by the clear river. The sight added with the memory of how insistent the young lord was on the fact he was older than Ísar made the young king chuckle to himself.
"A king must stretch his legs every now and then," Ísar responded, glad he could finally get some use out of his new companion.
Gaston wrinkled his nose. "Why do you talk like an old man? It's weird."
"Maybe I'm an old man in disguise. You never know."