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The king did not care for the petty squabbles of the lesser lives of court so left to peruse other interests. He was sure to find some way to hone his management or at least make himself more diplomatic around others. As the king left another entered the room. The duke of Normandy. A thin man with spindly limbs. He was tall and had a gaunt look about him. There was something of the north about him. Like a cold fog that blocked any and all readings of his emotion. Made what he said the only real thing one could use to know what he was thinking. He wore a purple and black coat, decorated with the lions of house Normandy , which had left some centuries under William the conquer. He glided to the queen's bedside. In more ways than one he was one of the more prominent vassals of the realm, and widely believed to be the kings spy master. "What a lovely baby girl you have your highness. I trust the king was satisfied with the birth" he said making gestures with his long hands. Looked like he had an extra bone in each finger. He had cold dark eyes and jet black hair , glimmering a little in the sunlight. Smoothed back it only exposed his pale skin. "But you aught to rest my lady . I'm sure you must be worn out from such an ordeal. Would be most dreadful for you to perish from such a great achievement" he said , each word dripping with sincerity.
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