A man in his early twenties sits down wearily. Even though there is a festive air everywhere else, he can't seem to enjoy anything right now; not his overstuffed red cushions on its golden throne or the beautiful white marble room with its strip of red carpet connecting him to his subjects. Even his crown was off; its fire reds and sea blues seemed to have dulled, and it didn't set right on his head.
He usually had a smile that lit up the room and looked like he was in the middle of a wonderful joke, but his usual joyful expression is hidden by a look of annoyed worry. Arai had run off again. He knew she could be quite the wild girl, but she never seemed to think of how much trouble it was when she left the castle.
"You called, Your Majesty?" The captain of his guard was only a plain man by looks; his peasant exterior hid his lean strength and array of weapons.
"Arai has gone into the woods again. Take a group of men in after her, and when you find her, escort her back to me."