As Sean conversed with Lucio and Gabe, Sophia stood nearby, absorbing every word. If Lord Sean goes to Yorn, will I not see him for ages? A sudden sadness tugged at her chest.
Sean noticed her melancholy, approaching to ruffle her hair gently. "Sophia, did your group return from the forest? How was the hunt?"
She stiffened, cheeks flushing crimson, but managed to reply, "Very fruitful, My Lord. Father sent me with this." She handed him a letter.
Sean read Olga's missive: the Blazing Cross planned a 4-5 day expedition into the forest and desert to scout for minerals, requesting approval.
"Tell your father I approve. May the Light guide his efforts," Sean said warmly.
"Thank you, My Lord!" Sophia bowed, fleeing like a startled fawn. Sean watched her go, envying Olga's daughter—Maybe one day, but I'm only 16.
He headed to Anduin's office, where the viceroy and Lodin pored over a book, both startled by his arrival.
"Reading something interesting?" Sean peered over their shoulders.
Lodin, ever enthusiastic, explained, "A traveling bard with painting skills! I commissioned illustrations for the Romance series." He thrust two books into Sean's hands.
The first, Milk & Moonlight, featured a detailed sketch: human hero Marcus locked in… intense dialogue with a female Tauren. The lines were simple yet vivid, capturing the Tauren's bovine features flawlessly.
"Remarkable! Does the bard know Tauren?" Sean marveled.
Lodin chuckled, "He guessed! But say—" Sean interrupted, struck by a whimsical thought.
"Anduin, do Tauren eat beef in Azeroth?"
The viceroy paused, then deadpanned, "They do, My Lord. Tauren are humanoid bovine beings, not evolved from cows. Thunder Bluff raises Kodo beasts, while humans raise cattle."
Lodin chimed in, "Murlocs fish, Tortollans sell turtle soup—it's all normal." He mimicked a Tortollan's croak: "One turtle successfully enters the water~"
Windsor roared with laughter, the room lightening.
Sean tried to refocus, but Lodin flipped to the next illustration in Frost & Fervor—a succubus with devilish horns, scant clothing, and… impressive proportions.
"An artistic masterpiece!" Sean grinned. "Bring the bard to Yorn. His work will sell."
Lodin preened, "He claims the succubus' figure is modeled after his wife. Says he 'lacks female references.'"
Sean: "..."
Amid the laughter, Sean briefed Anduin on governance: protect the distillery, enforce the boiling water ordinance, and prepare for the dragon egg's imminent hatch.
As evening fell, the town bustled with preparation—wagons loaded, guards mustered, and Lodin's books packed alongside Jamie's shoes and Henry's spirits.
Yorn awaits, Sean thought, glancing at the dragon egg's countdown—1 day left. With a dragon by my side, even a question as absurd as "Tauren eating beef" might just tip the scales of noble favor.
In the end, whether discussing fantasy ecology or plotting politics, one truth remained: in a world of magic and mayhem, even the silliest questions held the power to break ice… and forge alliances.
And as the first stars emerged, Riverside's unlikely lord smiled—tomorrow, he'd ride into Yorn with a caravan of dreams, a mystery egg, and a newfound certainty: Influence is won not just by swords, but by the courage to ask the questions others are too serious to pose.
The stage was set, and Sean was ready—Tauren cuisine knowledge in hand—to conquer the city of nobles… one absurdly profound question at a time.