The king stops in front of his son. His personal guards stopped by the door and wait silently there. "Hello, son. Rise, Sir Strider." You do so. You should say something like 'your majesty' but you're already forgotten as the king turns back to his son. "Am I too late?"John giggles. "Yeah, dad, we just closed the doors. You should really get here sooner if you want to listen to some of the visits. But don't worry, I got it covered. I'll write up the reports later.""I would have been here sooner, but I was busy overlooking the preparations for tonight's festival." The look in his eyes softens as he lays a hand on his son's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, son."John grins. "Thanks, dad." He fidgets, and you can tell from the way he's twitching that it's not the conversation. His hands are at his back again, scratching away at the material. "So how are the preparations going?"