Mornings were busy for the Warden of the Citadel. Inspecting the walls and the battlements came first - second came audiences. Some had been scheduled; important meetings with suppliers, hunters, soldiers, firekeepers - the types of people without which Halo would surely perish. But there was an hour, towards midday, where any might come to petition Neron for his advice or favour. Usually the queue was small; with a citizenry so hardy and busy with their own survival, they usually didn't bother the Warden and went about solving their problems themselves.
Something that Neron utterly adored them for, some days. Today was one such day when there were few people waiting, and the last of which had just left his audience room. Said room was relatively small, kept warm by a roaring fire and made pleasant by the continious flow of mulled wine and cider. The 'throne room', for lack of better word, was much to draughty to stand only a few bodies within it, and was used for large gatherings only.
Now that his latest appointment had departed, Neron took a moment to sink back into his seat, ruffle a hand through his fair hair, and pluck up the book he had been perusing between conversations.
Something that Neron utterly adored them for, some days. Today was one such day when there were few people waiting, and the last of which had just left his audience room. Said room was relatively small, kept warm by a roaring fire and made pleasant by the continious flow of mulled wine and cider. The 'throne room', for lack of better word, was much to draughty to stand only a few bodies within it, and was used for large gatherings only.
Now that his latest appointment had departed, Neron took a moment to sink back into his seat, ruffle a hand through his fair hair, and pluck up the book he had been perusing between conversations.
