Magnus may have not been impressed the last time that he ran into Leilan, but he was hardly the kind to hold grudges—or, at least, hardly the type anymore. Perhaps it was the wisdom of having been alive for a few hundred years, but the golden King was finally learning the lesson of letting go. So much so that he doesn’t even show signs of his previous annoyance when he walks toward the draconic stallion on his border. Instead he walks forward, that faint golden glow pulsing around him, his smile warm.
“Leilan,” he greets, angling his head, he walks through the flowers and trees, some of them beginning to change colors in the coming autumn and others locked in a perpetual state of emerald. All of it was beautiful to Magnus, in their own way, and were he to have more time to himself today, he would be content to walk through it. Perhaps find a flower or two to bring back to Isle. She’d like that.
Regardless, today is not a day without responsibility, and he lets such fancies slip from his fingers.
Instead, he comes to a stop several feet from the ice dragon, tail flicking and crooked grin widening. “What brings you to Tephra today?” There is a mischievous hint of humor that flickers across his features, enough to tease at the edges of his smile and spark in his gold-flecked eyes. “Rhaegor has been busy lately, but I am sure I can hunt him down if you’re feel like a paternal lecture is in order.”
Just because he didn’t hold a grudge, didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the humor of it, after all.
It wasn’t every day that a diplomatic visit went off the rails for a family squabble.
MAGNUS | I don't belong to anyone, but everybody knows my name
@[Leilan]
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