Ibrahim Bashar.

Hadrian had been surprised to receive his letter. Bashar was not a name often heard in recent years beyond whisperings from outside the capitol. There was an air of mystery about them, of that there could be no doubt, which Hadrian rather wondered whether it was intentionally manufactured. If that was the case, Hadrian found it an impressive play. For everyone always had an angle—even the commander.

When it was reported that Ibrahim had arrived, Hadrian instructed to have him brought to a sitting room, not his office in the military wing. This place would be far more comfortable, much more befitting of a meeting with a noble instead of one of his lieutenants. Hadrian was well aware that the Bashar family was an old and influential one. It never hurt to put one’s best foot forward.

It would be likely that Ibrahim would arrive in the room first, though he would not wait for long. Hadrian would enter, looking impressive in his military uniform, even though the gray in his hair betrayed his years of service.

“Lord Bashar,” Hadrian dipped his head in polite acknowledgment, “It was quite a pleasant surprise to receive your letter.” He offered Ibrahim a seat, if he took it Hadrian would sit as well.

Hadrian and Ibrahim were friendly acquaintances, but it had been some time since their paths crossed. Their fathers had been unlikely friends and Hadrian and Ibrahim had seen one another at many gatherings over the years of their growing up. There was a time when Lord Usher, Hadrian's father, had considered offering his daughter, Hadrian's twin, as a bride...though what became of that, Hadrian never knew. Ibrahim Bashar certainly lived up to his memory; he was a formidable titan of one of Nevermere's oldest families, and it showed.

"I do hope your visit will not be a short one," Hadiran said, chuckling and assuming a manner of ease, "Though if the rumors are true...it seems that it won't be?" Yes, Hadrian who always had his ear to the ground by profession, had heard them.

Hadrian grinned. “The art of gossip is an underrated one,” He teased right back, “I’ve often thought the chattering women at court make better spies than some of our finest soldiers.” Despite the length of their separation, there was a familiarity and nostalgia to Ibrahim’s presence that made Hadrian feel at home.

“You should bring them,” Hadrian suggested, “There is much for a young person with cunning and tenacity to gain in Skia nowadays. And if the apples don’t fall far from the tree…” Hadrian tipped his glass to Ibrahim, “Then I think they should be well set. I’d be happy to find occupation for them if such a thing would be of interest.”

Hadrian chuckled. Children often did. Though he missed Valeria terribly, he hoped he’d given her just that by sending her from the military to Arynn Frey. It was his duty as her uncle, after all, to see that she was cared for.

“Keelan Morrigan?” By virtue of his name, he was known to Hadrian. Though the man did not have a strong connection to court, it was Hadrian’s business to know who all the players were. After all, even the most insignificant of men could be made relevant overnight.

“I have to admit I’m not overly familiar with him directly, only by reputation. His branch of the Morrigan family tree comes with its…complications,” Hadrian didn’t know what other word to use, “But he seems reasonable enough. The kind to pull himself up by his bootstraps—ambitious, to be sure. And…” Hadrian shrugged, “Your niece could do worse than to marry a Morrigan. She’d be taken care of.”

Hadrian considered for a moment whether to tell Ibrahim about Keelan’s affair with Regan Lassiter. It was known to him, but then again, he decide the list of the woman’s conquests was long and it did Keelan a disservice to name him specifically.