Again. How are these people not getting tired of this shit?

Once more, Corco found himself as part of an overblown banquet. Every damn time the great lords of Medala came together, someone had the fresh and novel idea to celebrate the occasion with another decadent feast.

Sitting on his elevated chair, his hand firmly on his cheek and his face as indifferent as he could muster, the king watched the artists in the center of the hall create colorful, meaningless shapes out of swinging canisters filled with dyed sand. As time went by, the canisters swirled around and created more and more complex forms on the ground. It was pretty but pointless, like so many fads in Medala's high society. Back in the day, this technique was supposedly used by Yaku shamans to read the future, but all Corco saw was a mess of stains on his nice wooden floor. It really was a waste of good paint, and the music didn't do a bit to improve his experience.

In classic Medala fashion, the great warriors of the south celebrated their great victory over the north with an entire orchestra. To Corco's dismay, someone had gone 'oops, all drums' and forgot to invite any of the orchestra's other instruments. The heavy beat echoed across the massive hall and made the sand on the ground dance just as much as it did the intoxicated men and women all around.

Without any regard for their standing or reputation, the lords who were drunk on power and wine indulged themselves in their baser urges and embarrassed themselves all at the same time. At least it looked like they were having fun, but they were ruining both his castle's halls as well as his treasury in the process.

However, while Corco wasn't in the mood to participate in this sort of tribalistic play, this wasn't something he could just avoid either. After all, this was the great celebration in his honor. Even before he had returned to the southern kingdom, all the lords had gushed about the great banquet that would await them in Saniya, the one to commemorate his victory against the north.

Although some lords like Ogulno and Rafun had tried to downplay Corco's achievements, excitement over the rare victory had gained the upper hand in the end. Against the wishes of the contrarians, the other lords had forced these celebrations on their young king, which also showed their relief at the first victory over the powerful north within their lifetimes.

Not that Corco was strictly opposed to the idea of celebrations per say. After all, this sort of display was necessary to show off his wealth and power and increase his influence within the southern political circle. However, after three straight days of nothing but drinking, eating and fucking, the entire image had gone pretty stale for the king. Not that he had done much of the latter either. As a king without an heir, he was forced to be picky about these things or there might be trouble with succession later.

The alcohol on offer hadn't done him much good either. Rather than indulge in various fancy spirits like the other lords, the king had only allowed himself to drink some diluted wine to stay sharp, or 'water with color', as Corco called it. If that hadn't been bad enough, his drinking companions did their best to ruin his mood further.

“King Corco, let me raise a toast in your honor! How great our host's little festivities are! They might not be as mighty as the eternal feasts of the imperial courts in Arguna, but within a few years, they may be able to overtake Puscanacra's banquets in scope!”

With a crooked grin and half-closed eyes to indicate his own inebriated state, Lord Ogulno once more stepped in front of Corco and raised his glass for another one of his toasts. Over the course of the banquet, he had done the same too many times for Corco to count. Every time, he would give a backhanded compliment or try to incite conflict between the southern king and his cousin Mayu, the Governor of the South. This time, he had done both. Not that it mattered, since Corco's answer was more than predictable.

“Thank you, Lord Ogulno. My home is small and weak, and we have no money to spare for fancy banquets, since we need to fight off our foes in the north. I really hope we will soon organize a feast befitting of a powerful warrior such as yourself.” Corco forced a friendly smile onto his face and repeated the same lines he had used every time Ogulno had spoken up during the banquet. Halfway through the king's little speech, Atau – two seats down from the king's position – mumbled along with Corco, and by the time he reached the ending, half the hall had joined in to recite Corco's phrase verbatim.

Laughter and cheers erupted all around the hall as glasses collided between the joyous lords. His cheeks red from wine and embarrassment, Ogulno retreated without another word and sat back down among his own, no doubt to plot the genius quip he would unleash during his next toast.

“What is that guy even doing?” Atau asked, one hand on a goblet of wine and another around the shoulder of the pretty servant girl on his lap. “He's the only lord of the kingdom who didn't contribute to the war. Well, him and the three traitors in the east. Every other estate here fought and lost in the north, so of course he would be unpopular today. Why does Ogulno keep speaking up when he'll only embarrass himself?”

“He's a poor loser, and drunk,” Corco dismissed the lord's bitter comments. Like all the other lords at the banquet, Ogulno was worried that the victory would give Corco too much political leverage and change the power structure of the south forever. Of course he was right to be worried, but that wasn't something Corco would ever admit, nor was it something that would resonate well in this kind of atmosphere.

“Still,” the king added after he had taken a small sip of his stale drink, “I don't think we should let the great Lord Ogulno run around all unimpeded and drag our names through the mud again and again. Since we won't become allies any time soon, let's punish him a bit.” As he readjusted some of his future strategies in his head, a grin spread on Corco's face.

“Oh, so you have a plan already?” Atau laughed at the prospect.

“Something like that.” Corco had planned out some things well in advance, but by pushing them ahead of schedule and adjusting them a bit, Ogulno might end up in quite a bit of trouble. Harming his enemies wasn't a bad idea, and it would be fun as well. “There's some copper mines around Cashan, isn't there?” the king asked.

“I think so,” Atau shrugged, a piece of duck meat hanging from his mouth. “I know that Olgulno is really proud of Kapra's copper resources, but Cashan has some small mines too. You really should ask someone else though, I don't care much about this stuff. Ah, though Ronnie was talking about something like that before. There were some people here a while ago who wanted to find resources for you, apparently? Once you get the time, you should ask him about it.”

“Yeah... if this fucking banquet ever ends.”

Again, Corco returned to his kingly duties of sipping thin wine in a bored fashion, while he watched every one else's fun. His state of misery continued until his attendant finally returned, luckily before Ogulno showed up again.

“Master, please excuse the intrusion,” Fadelio said and offered a perfect bow. At this point, it was almost as if he had never left Corco's side.

“Yes, please give me a reason to escape this eternal hell,” the king begged in a whisper no one else would hear.

“Master, it is time for the award ceremony to honor the soldiers of the last campaign.”

For a moment, Corco only stared at his servant while his eyes grew larger and larger, until he exploded out of his seat with a loud “Yes!”

With the confused eyes of Atau on him, Corco answered in a wide grin.

“Looks like you'll have to entertain our guests by yourself. I have my duties to attend to and won't join you any longer.”

“Right. I'll try my best,” Atau mumbled and took another bite from a fatty piece of meat. “Won't your valued guests mind though?”

“They'll have to understand. I can't let the warriors who won us the war go without their rewards, can I? Plus, by the time these corpses wake up from their stupor, I'll be long done with my work anyways.”

Atau looked over the mess in the center of the hall, where lords had begun to dance with some of the local girls on top of the sand mandala and ruined the piece of art in the process. Now it was truly abstract, just how the lords liked it. As the captain saw the mess, he only laughed and held the girl in his lap tighter.

“Right, I'll be off then,” Corco said. “If Ogulno shows up again, you know what to say. Have fun, and don't overdo it. Remember that STDs are a thing.”

His cousin's dismissive wave showed that he didn't really care, but Corco still made his way out of the banquet hall and down Rapra Castle without another warning. He couldn't wait to get away from all the noise of his fellow lords.

While the banquet for the nobles had been held in the great hall, the commoners and warriors had been stuck in the plaza in the castle's front, and they had a much more muted celebration. However, that didn't mean that the mood was poor.

As the king – accompanied by his guards – marched down his castle's outer sections, the air was still filled with the same sickly smells of fatty meat as before, but at least the constant drum beats no longer maltreated his head. Instead, they had been replaced by the play of flutes, the kind of instrument one would only see from the Yaku commoners. These sounds were no surprise as most of the people on the outer plaza had been commoners not too long ago, and many still were.

When Corco arrived, the celebrations appeared a whole lot more muted than the out-of-control feast inside the castle. Rather than run all over the place, the attendees sat in small groups and talked while they sipped their wine with hesitance, rather than verve. Of course, there was still the occasional scream or boisterous laugh, but those were soon swallowed by the tension all around them once more.

Maybe it was because they knew that their king was coming or maybe it was because they celebrated right under the noses of their masters, but the commoners were much less enthusiastic in their celebrations. After days of excess, Corco much preferred their atmosphere, though he felt for the men who couldn't let loose even at a festival.

“In the end, they're people who have lived as second class citizens all their lives. No wonder they don't have the courage to celebrate,” the king sighed. Wisely, Fadelio remained quiet, as did the other guards. Such dangerous words were not something anyone but the king's closest allies would be able to hear in the first place. Thus, Corco soon fixed his posture as well as his face, in an effort to hide his true feelings.

When they reached the castle's outer gates, they were greeted by a sea of fires which surrounded a large array of tables. As they marched through the crowds, Corco saw an old man sit there with a strange wooden box in his hands. Right away, the king recognized the object, but for now he would have to stick to protocol. Annoyed at the limitations of his office, he could only offer the old man a silent nod as he took his place among his guards and waited for his attendant to announce his arrival.

During this time, Fadelio had stepped up to the grand stage that had been built for this specific festival. Earlier today, the traveling folk had offered music and plays on stage, but such lowly entertainment was something the higher nobility was always opposed to. Thus, no traces of the spectacle remained for the king to see.

With only him and a few warriors atop the empty stage, Fadelio grabbed a megaphone and introduced the people to their king, before several of Corco's warriors fired blanks in the air, both to notify even the drunkest commoner of his arrival, as well as to serve as warning. After all, Corco had many enemies, an with every conflict he made more. To prevent any sudden attacks on the king, the people below the stage were held at a safe distance by a row of halberdiers. Even though the methods seemed excessive to Corco, the crowd was still excited to meet their ruler. After all the preparations were done and his safety was sufficiently secured, Corco was finally allowed to step up to the stage.