The Palace of the Usurper.
"To what do I hold this visits?"
The Usurper asked, while his interpreter took the Curtish turn. He was well built, with less beards but wierd moustache. His face rumpled like a book with cringes, his nose large and his face broad. He probably knew too well to be claiming what naturally wasn't his.
"You aren't dumb, you sure have an idea."
The queen of the land of Curt shot at him, while the interpreter did his turn. The Professor looked at the queen, shooting her a can't-you-be-patient-for-once kinda look. The queen didn't care. For all she cared, herself and him didn't really have anything in common. Not anymore.
"I won't have you speak to me in such manner."
The Usurper's voice was raised now, his broad face easy to fold into a rich frown. The queen stepped even forward but was restrained by the two lofty guards who stood before the throne in their way, obviously to avoid ambush on the king.