The Dragon Nears. [Past RP. Invitation.]

Shyvana froze as there was a voice behind her, she had just talked bad about the captain and someone besides Jarvan heard her? Turning around she looked up at the soldier behind her, apparently he was a friend of Jarvan's.

Even though Garen smiled at Shyvana she couldn't help but feel a bit intimidated by him. When Jarvan introduced Garen to her, she smiled weakly. "Hello, Garen..." She began thinking a bit before speaking, what was there to be afraid of? She straightened her back and spoke with a more secure tone. "I am Shyvana, H-..."

Shyvana stopped herself mid sentence, the people of Demacia might be friendly. But she didn't know how this one would react when he found out her true nature.

"... I am... A Dragon slayer." Her voice was more secure than before and it showed on her. She looked the General in the eyes with a fixed stare. If Garen doubted her, he's welcome to test her.

"It's no trouble Garen. If you've no pressing duties, I wish to speak with you later." Shyvana was quick to hold back her identity. Dragon Slayer... Did she think of herself that way? From before they met, Jarvan IV had only know the imperious and cruel nature of dragon kind. None of it passed to her, not by blood. He had only trained how they might be killed. He could foster half of her, but the other half...

Nodding to his old friend, he said only "Come Shyvana", not sure what light her bitter past cast on the shoulders of a dragon killer.

Nothing like me.

    Perhaps she was right, in so much as everything about their lives up until this point was drastically opposed. She lived in fear, he in security. She knew nothing of the human world to which she half belonged, but here the human world nearly belonged to him. That he had met her in the wilderness, that their paths had crossed was nothing short of a miracle, but for all their differences the prince knew of one thing that connected them. It was a thing that tied his sympathies to her tighter than her imagined was possible, and he knew he would extend his allegiance to her for as long he could. Fateful birth was a ruling order of both their lives. She could escape hers no more than he could escape his. She would be cursed with a blessing of strength for all her life, while he was blessed with the crushing responsibility of Kingship. 

    He would make the most of both their fortunes, as was his calling. His strength for hers, perhaps they'd trade. For now she would need all of his attention. While he secured her place in Demacia, nothing would be left to chance. Jarvan IV walked after the messenger in royal livery, coming to area of the palace lightly used of late. The suite he opened to them was large, if not too fine by palace standards, with smooth stone floors and brightly painted artworks.

    "Leave us." he said to the servant as they entered the room, and after the doors closed he took a quick look around. There were no fresh clothes waiting, but no surprise. The bathroom was stocked with finery and the linens were fresh. He turned to Shyvana with smile still tempered by worry. 

    "We have been given a reprieve. I must use this time to mend any damage that our interruption may have caused." He opened the door and gave a quiet command to one of the guards. "My personal manservant will stay with you until morning, in the servants rooms connected to your suite. I've sent for him now, and you should find him adequate, and more than trustworthy. As I told you before, our country has a law, requiring from its citizens three years of military service. If you're to be a citizen, that at least will be asked of you." 

    Pulling one of several chairs closer to another, he sat and motioned her to follow. "Come and sit. He'll be a minute getting here."

He simply nodded, observing her expression and her posture. "That may be, but do not worry about my efforts. I'm sure one day I will be thanking you for your help."

Thinking to himself he added, "This room isn't far." Not far from his rooms, but still out of the way. He needed to introduce Frenko so he could get to speaking with father. He tried to think of anything that might go wrong and how to prevent it. No one could bother her here, not if he gave the right command, and none would be with her but Frenko. His manservant would be fine, wouldn't he? Jarvan IV wanted to think he could be trusted with anything, but there were limits.

"Is there anything I can get you? Anything you need?" There was a knock at the door.

Standing, he went and opened the door slightly. Seeing Frenko, Jarvan IV pulled him in and introduced him immediately.

"Shyvana, this is Frenko Beaullard, my manservant. Frenko, meet Shyvana." The older man looked at Jarvan IV expectantly for a last name before realizing none would be given. He bowed at the chest, his grey hair swinging slightly forward.

"A pleasure." His eyes smiled kindly behind a servants stiff expression.

"Miss Shyvana of Vaeroth, how may I help you?" Frenko stood expectantly with a placid expression.

"Yes, Shyvana was just saying that she could use something to eat." The prince interjected, standing and glancing toward the door. "What shall I send for Miss?" said the manservant, observantly moving out of Jarvan's way should he decide to leave. "Some soup, or perhaps fish interests you?" If he was apprehensive in meeting her, or had some knowledge of her past, it did not show. 

The Prince just stood there, watching.

"The, err.. Ironspike Mountains are quite far away... yet I'm sure the kitchens can provide goat or lamb at will make your would water. How would you like it cooked? Medium? Rare?" Frenko waited for her reply, while Jarvan IV made his way to the door. He paused and turned. Shyvana's answer might confuse the man. 

"Ah.. Frenko. Rare, that much I know. I'll be back to see you in the morning. Stay here, and Frenko will make sure you are comfortable. Agreed?"