"Well, if there's anyone I hate making wait more than Ryder, it's Alexandria... We best get a move on, especially if her dad's gonna be around." Lyric noted, eyes quickly widening before looking to the Miscreant. "Speaking of which! Princess Alexandria, King Altar. Say it, right now."
Kyoya stood in place, expression offering no more than a blank stare.
"...Huh?"
"Say their names, so you don't forget! If you slip up, I'm the one who brought you in! That means I'll get half the lecture..." Upon her explanation, the boy felt a grin make its way to him.
"Right, I'll be sure to mess up the first time around."
"Hey! You're lucky we're pretty much on their doorstep, or I'd let my Burst do the talking!"
"Okay, okay, I get it! Glad that's ironed out, at least... Was that really something that would've made me look like an idiot in front of royalty?" Asked a relieved Miscreant.
"100 percent. But hey, don't sweat the details: if I can dig you out of anything, I'll give it my best shot... It's just—" She paused. "...Meeting Alexandria always stresses me out a little. Nothing serious."
"So long as you know them, I'm sure we'll be fine. You were right about that whole doorstep thing, too. I didn't stop to think about how all this just happened in their backyard—"
The boy stopped, thinking back to their encounter with the Demon. "Wait, yeah, if this happened in their backyard, why didn't anybody come out to help? There was a DEMON; isn't that a big deal!?"
Lyric simply gave a shrug.
"Didn't look like you needed any help. Pretty sure I saw a few faces watching from the balcony while you were fighting, but I doubt you'd have noticed. Delivering an ass-kicking like that takes focus."
Kyoya groaned in reply.
"How've you nailed down turning insults into compliments so fast?"
"It's one of my great many specialties. We'll talk more about that later, though. 'Till then, let's get this royal audience on the road. I can't say I'm not excited to see what Alexa's gonna think of a new Defiant-... I mean D-Team member!"
There it was again. Every time, it sent that familiar jolt of stinging recollection through his head, though this one in particular never actually got anywhere.
The most he was able to put together was that she, along with the eight other names, were connected in some way or another. With Lyric's earlier mention of something regarding 'the Hope,' it seemed clue enough to him that this was the case.
The duo turned a corner of the courtyard that led to a grand entrance. It was fashioned of an even finer, more supple granite walkway, leading straight to enormous, gold-plated wooden doors. Framing those doors was the front of Altaire's Altra Castle,
Such an insurmountable fortress easily tripled the entire property of the Monadt Highlands shrine, and then some; until today, his home away from home had been the most beautiful establishment he'd ever seen.
Just as his introduction to the kingdom, the castle shattered that record.
All of that seemed to distract him from another pair of figures standing in front of those doors. "That'd be our hosts: King Altar and Princess Alexandria of Altaire... Mind your manners," Lyric whispered.
Kyoya wasn't given long to really look as they approached, but he managed.
King Altar appeared about as kingly as the boy could have imagined, standing well above him at just under seven feet tall. He easily attained admirable bulk for his apparent age, which Kyoya assumed was within the late-sixties range. His hair was long and silvery, with an exceptionally groomed beard just as long laying on a sharp, wizened face. Eyes a stormy gray managed to still seem content; a smile sent Lyric's way offered a surprising comfort.
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He adorned himself with a trademark sterling white king's cloak, accessorized with dark navy fur on the shoulders and hemline. He also wore a pair of golden gauntlets extending from the cloak's sleeves and several silver rings on either hand. His shoes were steel greaves of a similar silver hue to his hair, meaning that even he knew his way around a scuffle or two.
Standing to his right, excitedly waving to Lyric, must have been Alexandria.
She was very subtly shorter than either of the pair, at just shy of 5'8. However, wearing the same greaves as her father made up for almost three inches. She was reasonably built; framework only slightly less toned than Lyric's suggested similarly acute physical ability. Sharp eyes and rolling hair of identical color to her father's was more than enough to prove lineage—though hers was considerably thicker, set in a fishtail braid down to her mid-back.
Her outfit was remarkably knightlike, composed of more metal than cloth—a hybrid of steel and leather making up her waist, chest, and leg armor. These stood alongside gold-studded steel gauntlets on either arm, and a consistent trend of deep red colors differentiated her getup from her father's. She didn't look any older than neither the Seraph nor the Miscreant.
Kyoya silently counted his blessings for such a coincidence as his partner's being buddy-buddy with royalty.
Lyric took to a light jog, meeting the Princess in yet another of the gal's wondrous handshakes. They first knocked the sides of either foot together two times, following with a half-spin and repeating the previous action with their heels. After that, they spun back to face one another, and finished with mutual curtsy.
Even King Altar seemed to enjoy the girls' exchange, as his smile soon developed into a laugh as Kyoya caught up to the Seraph.
"It's been too long, miss Lyric! How have you been?" Alexandria spoke with a voice too tender to be of this world, yet still testifying to a regal dominance. She cupped Lyric's hand, shaking it politely before letting go. "My father and I were so very excited when miss Allison informed us of your pending visit!"
"It hasn't been that long, don't worry," the gal snarked in reply. A smile toward the King preluded her grabbing Kyoya's shoulder and bringing the pair to a bow. "And, your highness."
Altar chuckled and lowered down to them both, lifting them back up to stand at full height.
"Please, miss Seraphim, spare me the formality. One as close to the family as you needn't fret over that."
Altar, too, spoke much less sharply than Kyoya would have imagined, radiating a sense of age and experience. He was just as soft-spoken, though not so much as to deny that he was one of the most decorated individuals in all of Takera.
"I understand, sir, but the practice makes it less difficult to remember when my audience is royalty less forgiving than yourself." Lyric's sass may not have known bounds, but it certainly knew restraint. Even then, the girl couldn't seem to keep from at least a little sneaking in.
It wasn't long before the King's eyes landed upon Kyoya, after which the Seraph gave him a bit of breathing room. "That would be who I'm here to talk about. Any time for us to come in and chat a little while?"
"Absolutely, please do come in!" Alexandria lit up, practically jumping out of her greaves. "Father, I'll prepare tea. Do you think you could show them to the Pinnacle?"
"Yes, yes. Hurry and go, or the pot you set out earlier will be too hot for too long." Altar nodded to her request, the Princess's eyes widening at his remark.
"You're right! Lyric and company, I'll meet you in a moment!"
With that, she was off behind those gigantic doors.
A strangeness soon enveloped the atmosphere.
"I suppose your bringing this boy to meet us means that you've found some success in your ventures... Would that be what brought you here?" Altar's inquiry was laced with a curious, yet almost somber coat. He didn't seem nearly as excited as Lyric had to have learned about the boy.
"That's right... No doubt about it. I was hoping the four of us could discuss exactly what we need to be doing from this point. Even finding him in the first place was completely by accident, so it's all pointing toward Fate's dysfunction being more than what we thought."
After reviewing her response, the King nodded with closed eyes. Soon enough, he was opening them and glancing back at Kyoya, briefly meeting his. "You're awfully quiet. Are you alright?"
Suffice to say, the boy's tongue was tied. It took a moment or two of collecting his wits before he managed to say anything.
"Yes, sir. This is just the first time I've ever actually met a King, and on casual terms... It takes some getting used to." The Miscreant's explanation garnered another smile from Altar, who followed up.
"Then, please, shed your nerves. Any friend to miss Seraphim is a friend to Altaire, not to mention such a show as the one you performed in our courtyard earlier today. King Altar Albion, pleased to be of acquaintance."
The King extended a hand.
Kyoya forced away his indecision and met him in a much less extravagant, but completely normal and entirely satisfactory handshake.
"Kyoya Miskrit. It's an honor, sir."
The man's grip was firm, but thankfully not nearly as herculean as he'd imagined it would be. In fact, it felt as nothing more than what one would feel from a fatherly handshake.
"With that settled, I don't see any reason to prolong the inevitable. Please, come with me." He turned to open the door, and looked back over his shoulder after doing so. "If this truly is what you've been seeking, miss Seraphim, we'll have..."
An uncertain pause preluded his continuation. "...very, very much to discuss."