This is probably the worst punishment he's ever faced. His father gives a subtle smile that suggests he knows exactly how much Vayne looks forward to this. Of course, it is the duty of the aristocracy to face such pain... But a Rozzarian?

Rozzarian culture—he had been told mere moments ago—forbids children from sitting in on councils of diplomacy and because the emperor (or whatever it is they have in that place) has brought his son of Vayne's exact age, it was thought they could cause riots or roll in mud or whatever Rozzarians do to amuse themselves.

"You will not touch my things," Vayne tells Al-Cid when they reach his chambers.

"You are unpleasant," the boy laughs and proceeds to bounce on Vayne's bed with his disgusting heathen shoes.

Vayne sucks in a breath—he will not be referred to in such a manner! "And you, Margrace, are dirtying my bed."

"I am your guest, Solidor. You have to humor me," Al-Cid laughs at him again.

"Well..." Vayne struggles with waning composure. "You have a funny accent!"

"You look like a girl."

Vayne tackles Al-Cid off his bed and proceeds to lose the fight. Peace talks go downhill from there.