"Men shall battle, dressed in red upon blue tainted with black, with tendrils of gold wrapped about like a puppeteer's strings." - The Prophecies of Light

Anger burned through Seungcheol at Jeonghan's accusations, but he pushed it down as he reminded himself that he, in turn, had been questioning the immortal's trustworthiness. He took a deep breath before shaking his head slowly. Jeonghan's beautiful face was as still as if it had been carved of marble, his eyes hard as he waited for the human's answer.

"I am nothing like my father," Seungcheol told him, his voice soft. The whole reason that he had gone to Redien to indenture himself to the Tower had been because of his father's ambition. He was a cold man who looked at everything and everyone as tools to be used, and when Seungcheol's mother passed away, he had had no reason to stay in the Reaches. "I am not in league with him, nor do I support what he is trying to do."

Jeonghan's face had eased at the first bit, but then his expression tightened and he raised one slim brow. "And what, exactly, do you think that he is trying to do?"

"War. As you know. But you and I have not had a chance to talk-"

"And whose fault is that?" Jeonghan interrupted, picking at his sleeve in irritation. Seungcheol had to nod in agreement: he had been avoiding the immortal, but that was for good reason. He stood to go call for a servant, asking to get the evening meal sent to them, then turned back to the brunette.

"I am sorry, Lord Jeonghan. You're right, I was avoiding you. But as you question me about trusting you, I can ask you the same thing. How can I know that I can trust you? What are your goals, since apparently you know that I am a Seal? What do you know and what are you keeping from me?"

Jeonghan pursed his lips, his fingers coming together to tap the tips against his lips. "I see," he said slowly, nodding in acceptance. "It seems that we both are so unsure of the other that we have only been hindering one another. Very well." He looked at Seungcheol then, a weighing light in his eyes. "I believe that I can trust you. And so..."

He told him everything. Or at least, what he said was everything, and Seungcheol was inclined to believe him. There was something about the way that Jeonghan relaxed as he spoke, despite the ill tidings that he told, that made Seungcheol think that he was telling the truth.

When he had finished, though, Seungcheol could hardly believe the words. He couldn't pretend that he totally understood what Jeonghan meant about the residue of a spell in Dongwan's rooms, but he could perfectly grasp what he had to say about Hyesung. He could envision his father doing very nearly anything to rise in power, but turn against the Mages? His mind went back to Siwon's pompous actions and realized that maybe he could imagine his father doing that. The older brother had always been more like him than the younger had. "Your turn," Jeonghan prodded, and the blond came back with a start. 

"Oh. Well. You're right about my father, he's planning to go to war with Redien. He's allied himself with Tolsana and he thinks that he can make himself a King if he helps them to defeat the Tower. It seems to me that Youngsaeng... er, the Marcher Lord. I think that he is being coerced by my father, but he will not tell me why. I think that it may have something to do with his mother; she is not here." Lady Heo had always been kind to him after his own mother had died, and he had been disappointed at her absence.

"Would she normally be here?" Jeonghan asked, to which the blond nodded.

"Yes, I have never known her to leave the Marches since her husband died. I mean, that's only been a few years, but still. It just doesn't seem right that winter is coming and yet she is not here, while the passes will be all but closed once the snow comes. Even when she traveled, people of the mountains know to head home before winter."

The brunette nodded slowly before opening his mouth, but whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a knock at the door. Seungcheol went to answer it, expecting dinner, and was surprised to find a servant with empty hands.

"My Lord Choi," he said, bowing low as befit the blond's station. "The Marcher Lord asks for you to join him for dinner this evening."

"Please give him my apologies, but I have plans this evening," Seungcheol began, but the servant shook his head.

"No, my lord. I am sorry, but he insists."

Seungcheol turned to look at Jeonghan, one eyebrow raised as he considered th