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Hector was concerned about why Abbas hadn't been able to get through to Intar. From the conversation that he'd had with Prince David not too long ago, it had seemed like the Sandlords were on fairly reasonable terms with the Intarian government. Maybe that had been too much to assume.

Or maybe there was something else going on in Intar.

Prince David had mentioned a "culture war" dividing the country at the moment, but Hector hoped that wasn't the cause of this. Surely, the Intarians would be able to see that there was an actual war going on right now and that it needed to take precedence. Their neighboring country was on the verge of collapse, after all. That had to be a wake up call for them, right?

The Rainlord heads soon arrived--Dimas first, followed by the all the rest in a group.

Naturally, they had plenty of questions that Hector didn't yet have answers for. He brought them up to speed on the conversation he'd just had.

"Just like that?" said Zeff. "You've already offered them asylum?"

And maybe it was the man's tone, that voice of a perpetually judgmental teacher, but Hector abruptly felt uncertain. Had that been a mistake? "I... didn't think it would be wise to delay," he said, struggling to maintain his composure.

Zeff said nothing further, however. He just kept looking at Hector with that stern-as-hell face of his.

That was just his normal expression, though, Hector knew. It was intimidating, but it didn't necessarily mean that he disapproved. He shouldn't read too much into it, he decided.

Or tried to decide, at least.

He was suddenly feeling more self-conscious. Maybe because everyone was staring at him.

'You made the right call,' came Garovel's words, cloaked in the echo of privacy.

Hector had to consciously avoid reacting to that, but it was a relief to hear. Had Garovel guessed what he was thinking? Yeah, he probably did, didn't he?

Heh. Dammit.