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[ There is little to do but take it in stride, in his eyes. There is something to be said about the proprieties of Ishgardian culture that does save him a good number of potential indignities, though it is still a stark contrast to the suspicion he had become accustomed to growing up. Aymeric is sure part of him will never really be used to it all.

Still, he is glad she goes along with his rouse, transparent though it is to the both of them. ]

Only with the best of intentions, Your Majesty. And yes, I should be present at most, if not all, should nothing else arise that requires my personal attention.

[ This could easily be considered an affair that does given the nature of garnering alliances with other nations, though Aymeric is ever aware that he may be called away at a moment's notice when Ishgard's safety is at risk. He doubts it will come to that, though, not after the threat at the door--self-made though it was--has finally been put to rest.

At her gratitude, he can only smile and shake his head. ]

I am merely speaking from mine own experience, though not to nearly as high of a station, of course.

[ Queen outranks any title in Ishgard, without question. ]

'Tis a different sort of battlefield, is it not? Albeit with an entirely different code of conduct and arsenal at one's disposal. Though if I may be so bold, you do wear your crown with a natural dignity.

[ Were he to voice those feelings, Cecil would say she understands better than most ever could. She might have been one of the king's favorite wards as a child, but she was still far from being his actual heir. As an orphaned infant of strange and not quite known origins, that was deemed impossible. She could lead their armies and die for them in battle, but she would never have truly been one of them. Kain had had a better chance of being named the king's heir, as he was already noble-born and his family highly respected. The legacy of his father too was in his favor.

Every onze of respect Cecil eventually gained, she'd had to work herself to the bone for. And now with the power vacuum that resulted from the insidious murder of the king and the subsequent purging of corruption from their ruling system, suddenly this odd orphan, that seemingly no one had wanted so much that she was found abandoned in the woods as an infant, was chosen to be their new monarch. Cecil was used to being a soldier, yes, but she was also accustomed to being something of an outsider.

She could definitely understand how Aymeric feels, even after everything that has transpired. Some wounds one simply never completely heals from. ]

You honor me, Aymeric. Our king was a great man, not just a strong ruler, and though I have striven to live a life comparable to his in terms of nobleness and pride, I never expected to be doing so from his former seat.

[ She frowns briefly, glancing downwards at their feet leaving prints in the freshly fallen snow, and her voice quiets some. ]

On occasion, I find myself wishing I could speak to him at least. What sort of counsel he might give in certain situations I never anticipated being a part of.

[ But then she takes a deep breath and again pastes that smile back on her lips, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes now. Her thoughts are all of the man she saw as a father and she misses him. ]

I can only pray that he would share your approval.

[ He knows not of the finer details of her succession, but enough to know that they might relate. Aymeric would never be so bold to say that he understands each struggle, even if he too keenly feels the weight of legacy, earned or otherwise. To create their own path for a brighter future of their nations is of utmost import, of that he is sure she will agree with him.

Still, at the end of the day they are mere mortals. Deeds will speak for themselves, but they have their limits. Honest as it is to want to escape some of the more trying parts of entertaining aristocracy, he does believe he can afford Cecil a small reprieve as well. Or so he hopes.

Heavy thoughts are not so easily brushed aside. Aymeric offers what he hopes is a comforting smile, encouraging her own. ]

That you were appointed with this title speaks highly of your conduct and character, Your Majesty. That it was earned rather than bequeathed as birthright is a justice we do not oft see. While I never met the late king himself, I find it hard to imagine a man you speak so highly of not feeling fit to do the same.

[ At the western edge of the Pillars past the Astrologicum sit the Borel Manor. Sizeable in comparison to homes that slip away from the upper class district, but rather understated when viewing others even directly across the road. It appears about as "cozy" as manor can be in Isghard, simply built into the surrounding buildings rather than making a pronounced statement. Aymeric could doubtlessly choose to relocate to more prestigious surroundings given his advancements, yet he feels no need to. This is home.

As they approach as if on cue, the doors to the manor open as soon as the pair reaches the bottom steps. They are greeted by an elderly elezen man who bows with practiced grace. ]

"Welcome home, my lord. I had not realized we were having guests. Shall I prepare the sitting room?"

[ Aymeric nods as he leads Cecil carefully up the steps. ]

Please do. And if you could check the cellar for a bottle of Caelumtree from the cellar?

[ The man bows again and steps aside, allowing the two some room into the entranceway. ]

"As you wish, my lord."

[ Aymeric reclaims his own arm only so that he can remove his coat, of which the manservant offers to assist with for both Aymeric and Cecil, properly dusting them off of any snow before storing them to dry.

With that, he extends his arm again. ]

Well, would you like the grand tour? Though I should preface that "grand" may be a bit of an overstatement.

[ It isn’t the first time Cecil has heard reassurances like this before. Somehow, Aymeric has made it remarkably easy to open up to him and somehow he knows just what to say to make her feel better. She’s caught by surprise when she realizes that his smile too actually does comfort her and she finds herself revitalized by both it and his closeness. How odd... Sometimes Aymeric feels like a much older friend than he actually is.

Cecil has never seen where the Lord Speaker lives before, most of their formal meetings and more casual socializing done elsewhere, but when she sees Borel Manor, she’s not sure if how she feels. On the one hand, it is unusually modest, given his status, but on the other, how unostentatious the manor is seems entirely befitting of a place that the man she has come to know as Aymeric de Borel would call home. Likely she would be more perplexed if it was anything more than this.

As they are greeted by the older gentleman upon reaching the stairs, Cecil has the urge to give him a little bow to him in greeting out of respect, but manages to stop short of doing so as she reminds herself that queens bow to no one. Instead, she offers him a small, gracious nod as they pass through the doors into the entranceway.

Inside, the manor is the very ideal of high cozy and Cecil is relieved to find that even being divested of her thick, fluffy outer garments, she’s more than comfortable. She rubs her upper arms once to shake the last bit of chill from her body, then takes Aymeric’s proffered arm again with a soft laugh. ]

I would love to. I think it is perfectly grand already.

[ Hardly in comparison to a castle, he thinks, but knows that is not the point. She has seen the High Houses of Ishgard and all they can offer, Aymeric does not believe she holds those same standards to his own manor. But is loved--well-kept for generations, and that is the history he wants to protect. ]

Then let us begin unconventionally with the top floors that we may work our way down to the sitting room at last.

[ Ascending the steps is easy and he makes sure to point out a few paintings on the walls along the way. Pieces, as he was told, that his grandmother had crafted herself. The upper floors carry the private rooms, of which he takes the gentlemanly route of not giving specific tours of bed chambers, but does note the study and the small outdoor balcony that houses a personal telescope.

The uppermost floor houses the master suite, which he mentions only in passing before directing them back downstairs.

He points out the powder room, should she be of need of it, the door to his wine cellar underneath the stairs--something he takes pride in, even though he notes that the size of his collection does not speak of the quality of the spirits. There is a large dining room with a table that expands through most of it, as well as a well-stocked kitchen and a living room next door, the latter of the two with a small bar and a piano.

Lastly, he leads them to the sitting room itself--smaller than the living room, more private, but close to a now burning hearth. Two couches flank a long and low table in the center, a small bookcase next to thickly draped windows at the opposite side.

He leads her to the couch, should she choose to take a seat. ]

And that, my lady, concludes the brief tour. For listening to me prattle on, you have deservedly earned at least one cup of wine.

[ It's true-- she doesn't hold Aymeric's home to the same standards as the manors of Ishgard's High Houses; she finds it to be in higher esteem. To her, who grew up in an austere and sprawling castle, size and luxury is not so impressive as it is showy, but a smaller home with all manner of personal significance, with clear evidence of being well lived-in and cherished by a family for generations, is worth so much more.

And she sees this in Manor de Borel by the fact that Aymeric has seemingly no shortage of anecdotes and details to share with her about his home. Castle Baron has its history, but it isn't directly tied to her or anyone related to her. Cecil wasn't raised in a traditional fashion. She can't exactly search the corners of the castle to learn more about the people she loves. To hear Aymeric -- or anyone, really -- tell her about his own family gives her insight into what having a normal family life might have been like and she takes great interest in it.

She's an attentive audience, listening intently and asking questions of her own when something piques her curiosity. She opts not to make immediate use of the powder room, though she does thank her gracious host for showing it to her and she makes a note of it for the future, in case she will have a use for it. When they make their way back to the sitting room, she does disengage from Aymeric's arm and takes a seat near the fire on the sofa. She waves a hand dismissively at his little crack about how much he had talked, smiling with amusement. ]

The stories are a prize all their own, I assure you. It was a delightful tour. You have a lovely home. I'm afraid a tour of Castle Baron would not be quite as informative.

[ He expected Cecil to be nothing but kind regarding the tour, but it still brings a smile to his face. Once she's seated, he shifts his attention to the bottle of wine he requested. ]

On the contrary, the history in those walls reaches far beyond the stain on the wood that mother tried to hide underneath a decorative rug.

[ Which never really came out, for the record. ]

But you have my thanks. The Borels took great pride in their home and it seems only fit to honor that memory.

[ The bottle is only about half full, but he requested it with the hopes that it might suit her tastes. He considers it a decent first impressions sort of drink, sweet and full-bodied in its flavor, but not overwhelming. Aymeric pops the cork, though the noise isn't nearly as satisfying as it would be had it not been opened prior. ]

I should have asked before having Alfred fetch this bottle, but have you had Caelumtree wine before?

[ He pours each glass carefully, with a practiced turn of his wrist that indicates he is used to doing this for show to some extent. Once each is appropriately filled, he sets the bottle aside and picks both up, offering Cecil one first. ]

[ Cecil notices the easy grace with which he fills the wineglasses and recognizes the drilling it must have taken to foster such good etiquette. She can respect that and let’s herself admire Aymeric’s adroit movements. She takes the glass from him with another warm smile and a thankful nod of her head, lightly clinking the rim of it against his in a friendly toast to his hospitality. Before she raises it to her lips though, she takes a moment to swirl the wine in the bowl and get a good whiff of it. ]

I cannot say I have. I have sampled a few reds famous across Eorzea and one white wine, but this one is unique to me. I fear I am rather oblivious when it comes of all the many different spirits and wines in the world.

[ The wonderful aroma of the caelumtree wine though certainly makes her wonder why on this good green earth she has never heard of it before though. Just breathing it in is enough to make her feel slightly intoxicated, the wine pleasantly fragrant, and when she takes a small sip of it, the full taste of it richly enhances the experience. Sweet, but not cloying; strong, but not so much that the different flavor notes are muddled together and lose their potency.

Cecil is hardly an aficionado of alcoholic drinks, but of all the wines she has tried thus far, this is her favorite. She makes a pleased, quiet hum to herself, looking down into the glass as though slightly surprised by how much she enjoys it, letting the wine flow over her tongue while she swallows it. ]

Exquisite...

[ She may not be an expert, but her opinion matters regardless, Aymeric sets the bottle aside and waits with is own until he has her final appraisal, pleased to see that it meets her standards. He relaxes a little and takes the seat across from her, letting the table mark the space between them. ]

That you approve is all that matters. 'Twould make me a poor host to serve my guest something that would offend her palette.

[ He raises his glass then and takes a sip himself, exhaling slow from his nose as he swallows. ]

For the collection that I inherited, truthfully I cannot say that I am a sommelier of any definition or accord. To know what one likes and to enjoy it is of most import, I would say, and 'tis better enjoyed with company.

[ Cecil demurely utters a soft chuckle behind a hand at that. Somehow, she can't help feeling a bit honored that he chose to share a small part of his family with her like this. She's sure it might not be much to him, since she's certain that wine cellar is as vastly full of memories as the rest of his home is, but it is a very warm gesture of friendship in her eyes. She doesn't take it for granted. ]

Prior to ascending the throne, wine was drink I only allowed myself to indulge in occasionally, largely at official gatherings and other such galas I could not talk my way out of skipping.

[ She takes another sip from her glass with a little smile. ]

The crew members of The Red Wings often indulged at ports and towns as we passed through, but I felt this... responsibility to be the one sober person among us, as I was captain.

[ It is true, wine itself is usually a drink of the aristocracy, a point that was driven home in his earlier days as a Temple Knight. Low-quality ale was a necessity on long patrols and missions, and the better stuff a the Forgotten Knight after battles and aforementioned missions was the usual faire for celebration. Occasionally home-brewed meads were welcomed as well, but wine--usually imported from other regions--was rare.

Since then he has taken to greater appreciation of the collection his father amassed, having only added a few bottles to it himself. A legacy he hopes to give more due time and honor to some day. ]

A much more difficult task in your new position, I gather.

[ Skipping galas, that is. He does empathize on some level, knowing his presence is oft required as a set duty rather than just for socializing. As such leaving them behind has become something of a relief on nights such as this. ]

An unspoken obligation.

[ Aymeric nods at Cecil, taking another sip for himself. ]

To set the example for those under your watch and care...even more now than before.

[ Even in Ishgard where the High Houses throw marvelous parties with drunken revelry, it is rarely the Count or Countess that is seen with their pants down, so to speak. ]

[ She ducks her head a little, sheepishly. ]

Well... I also certainly enjoy them a bit more now, so, yes, it is more difficult now of course, but I do think I have grown out of my old habits of avoiding such responsibilities some. Even little progress is better than no progress at all, as they say.

[ She raises her glass in a modest toast to "progress", before indulging in a bit longer of a drink. While the sweetness of the wine is still fresh in her mouth, she closes her eyes momentarily, relishing the taste. When at last she pulls the rim of the glass away from her lips, she seems relaxed-- at least enough to give Aymeric a small playful wink. ]

It seems we truly do understand each other rather well, Lord Speaker. Tell me more. These days you are a rebellious politician sneaking off to drink wine with a foreign dignitary. Did you ever get up to such mischief while you were a mere Temple Knight?

[ Progress is something that he can and will most certainly toast to in kind. Moving forward is ever the goal, not ignorant of past mistakes but not dwelling on them either. To see where the world is in another ten years time is something Aymeric is looking forward to.

So toast he does, though he laughs easily shortly after at her (admittedly, accurate) appraisal of his position. ]

Is that how you view me?

[ Of which he has no issue. ]

Alas, my earlier days as Knight were more oft long and studious...I had much to prove and was careful only to cause trouble when necessary. Such as an incident where a friend and I had to face the then Azure Dragoon and his compatriot in a trial by combat to clear are names of the charge of conspiracy.

[ He caused a little trouble. ]

[ This little story clearly takes her by surprise, her eyes widening, and she can't help but lean forward in her seat a little, all of a sudden not at all interested in finishing her wine, but, rather, in hearing more about this conspiracy charge. ]

This I have never heard of.

[ Her remark isn't made with any manner of suspicion, but rather of deep interest, one corner of her lips curling upwards in a modest, but still very much present wry little smile. She's heard plenty of anecdotes and tales of Aymeric de Borel's bravery and strength, his skill with a sword and his noble bearing... There was no shortage of good things to hear about him, honestly. While she does admire him for all of that and the kindness and warmth he's shown her over the course of their budding friendship, it's this bit of untold history that truly piques her curiosity. She's equal parts amused and impressed to hear that the now Lord Speaker of Ishgard had once been in such trouble with his homeland.

Actually, it sounds a bit like herself. ]

...What did you do?

[ When she asks, her tone a bit scolding, but more playful, in truth-- certainly more so than it would be had she not been really enjoying his wine, at least. She almost sounds as though she's trying to coax admission of some transgression from a child. ]

[ Such things would normally be kept under lock and key for the privacy and sanctity of Ishgard's reputation, but they had made it something of a public spectacle that there are a few who still boast having been in the stands that day. Who would have known that two green knights would cause such a stir, let alone rise so high in the ranks?

But it is hardly listed in his ledger, given it had shone a poor light on one of the High Houses. For their sakes he keeps all names and specifics out of his retelling, even though he sincerely doubts Cecil would use such things to her own advantage. ]

It is not oft looked upon as one of the better moments of the Holy See, so I find that hardly surprising, no matter the good it did in the end.

[ There is still no small amount of mirth in his recollections. ]

My squadron was young and eager themselves at the time and in a routine duty in the Highlands, they happened to tug at a string that slowly unravelled a fiscal scandal that was much to the shame of the promises of the Holy See to the detriment of those who lived outside of her walls. In order to cover the debts of their own, a few choice members of a noble House had deigned to redirect funding away from allotments to the villages in Coerthas, leaving many small villages and townships without.

[ He can still recall the looks of distrust he and his squadron had received then they assured the town leader that they would return with their owed supplies. Ishgard would have to earn her respect once more. ]

I performed an...unsanctioned investigation of my own through the contacts I had acquired in my short time as Knight while my dear friend was more...forthright in his approach.

[ Aymeric shakes his head with a laugh. ]

Breaking and entering is hardly an affair to take lightly where nobility is concerned, but in the end it was the final catalyst needed to share all that had been learned thus far. We demanded trial by combat and turned what was intended to be a fight to clear our own names for looting and robbery to a full display of the conspiracy to swindle goods from what is rightfully the Holy See's pockets--as where all allotments are funded--to an individual House. Even if we had not won the fight, it would have been worth it's weight in gold in exposure.

[ He takes a sip of his own drink, shifting his gaze to look back at Cecil as he pulls back from the memories. ]

Ishgardians do enjoy their gossip, as I am sure you are well-aware.

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