Beep. Beep. Beep.

His Majesty King Olaf the Second's eyes shot open at the alarm. As the music began it's repetitive, lyricless beats, he questioned his decision to have an alarm installed. He really didn't need it. His advanced age woke him at roughly the same time each morning anyway. With the time he woke up at each morning, he was unlikely to sleep through an important appointment, and if he did come close to it, one of the staff would see fit to wake him.

Likely Eric. Eric had been on the staff since even before Olaf had become King, and was very much stuck in his ways. Though he was out this week; a case of food poisoning. He had insisted on powering through it, but a man in his nineties needed proper treatment for any ailment, technological advances aside.

The King frowned. Didn't he have a hospital appointment? Today? Olaf tapped at the alarm's holographic display, the schedule popping up. It seemed not. Perhaps tomorrow, then.

Olaf slipped out of the bed and into his slippers. Although the bedroom's plush carpeting was wonderful underfoot, he knew just how cold the hardwood flooring (that made up the majority of the castle) could be. Even in this day and age, tradition trumped practicality, and Arendellian spruce did not go well with underfloor heating.

A pity. Unlike his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandaunt, cold temperatures were not his strong suit. Some would say that was a strange trait for a denizen of Arendelle, much less he King, others would say that global warming was starting to have an effect on human physiology. It certainly had an effect on the geography.

He shuffled his way down the corridors, his mind wandering. As a child, he had very much loved the stories of his "aunt", as they called her. The ice sorceress who had accidentally frozen Arendelle, but had been able to lift the spell thanks to the love of her sister. It was a fun story, one that taught the importance of family and the dangers of naivety. It wasn't until his eighteenth birthday that great-grandma Georgina had entrusted him with the fact that the story was true.

He had been skeptical at first, but once he had met his namesake, he was willing to believe it. The Ice Palace was a beautiful structure and a popular tourist attraction, though none but the Royal Family had access to the interior. They had let in some foreign dignitaries, some historians, even a few camera crews - but none without appointment, and none saw the Palace's residents.

"Cousins" Olaf and Marshmallow were a family secret, one that each ruler took to their grave.

Olaf reached the dining room, and sat upon his usual chair. Several footmen attended to breakfast, as the recent hire stood the corner, waiting for Olaf to finish. As he ate, his wife Queen Agnetha arrived and took her place next to him. Although usually jovial in the mornings, she appeared unusually sullen. It happened - some days. No matter how long she kept her mind from it, it always came back in the end, and on those days her mood could not be brought up at all.

The recent hire handed the datapad to Olaf, containing a copy of each of the morning's papers. Although physical paper was still very much in use, it was quite niche, and the newspapers had abandoned paper altogether. It had cut costs incredibly, but it was still somewhat sad.

The new hire began tapping away at the orange holographic computer interface around his forearm, as he lined up the news briefing for the day. First the national news, then international, the news from the colonies, and finally the news from the other races. A quick few headlines from each, as Olaf could search in further depth within the daily papers.

Olaf couldn't bear to listen for more than a few minutes, his mind wandering off around the point where something was said about colonization efforts on Chasca. It wasn't that he disliked being informed of political matter - oh no. Although the monarchy of the Kingdom of Arendelle held little actual power nowadays, Olaf liked to keep abreast of political matters. His position, no matter how ceremonial, was still an important one. He was a symbol to his people, a final speck of patriotism and nationality in world where the Systems Alliance was deemed more important that any one country, and where the Citadel Council was more important than that.

It was simply that the tone of the recent hire's voice was incredibly monotone. It did not waver, it did not become excited, it did not become bored. It had no emotion to it. It was flat, through and through. The best comparison would be to an elcor unwilling to preface his statements.

"Finally, the Destiny Ascension and it's escort have returned to the Citadel Defense Fleet after it's tour of the Asari colonies." finished the footman - Johannes, he believed the name was? Usually Eric gave the news, but it would be quite unfair to call him out of the hospital each morning, and so the recent hire was taking his place.

"Not that it did much good in the geth attack." replied his wife bitterly.

Olaf refused to reply to her remark. Anything regarding the attack of Citadel, if not nipped in the bud, was cause for an argument. He could hardly blame his wife for the resentment she felt for anything and everything connected to the incident, even the defenders. They had both lost so much that day, and the pain was still fresh. It was still an open sore. It would probably prove to be until the day they died.

"Is that all, Johannes?"

"All the official news, Sire. And apologies, Sire, but it's John."

Olaf winced. The men and women that helped run their day-to-day lives deserved nothing but the utmost respect, and to forget poor John's name was the ultimate insult.

"The apologies should be mine, John. I'll make sure not to forget it again. What of unofficial news?" he said, giving a sly smile. The grapevine was a most fruitful resource. At the very least, it would turn the conversation away from the Citadel incident.

"Well, there's rumors flying around that Commander Shepard has been spotted out in the Terminus Systems."

Spoke too soon.

"Shepard?" the Queen exclaimed. "That oaf of a man?"

"Now dear," the King cajoled, "I've seen a few of the Commander's interviews. He appears to be quite eloquent."

"Eloquent or not, he's still one of those awful soldier types."

"Dearest, you must remember that I was once a soldier myself."

"Oh, you know what I mean. Special Forces. All this clandestine stuff. That man has probably done horrible things, things that will never be known."

"He's also done great things. He stopped that monster Saren, didn't he?"

"He had the chance to do so weeks before the attack! On that planet, Virmire! And if he'd taken that chance, we wouldn't- we wouldn't-"

Agnetha couldn't finish her sentence, her voice cracking as she broke down into sobs. It was most undignified to cry in the face of the household staff, but they had seen it enough at this point. Olaf leapt from his seat, and rushed to his wife's side, comforting her. The loss of Prince Agdar had struck them both deeply, turning two of the most optimistic people Arendelle had ever spawned into grief-stricken wrecks. Since then, they had regained a little of their previous outlooks, but it was easy to see the undercurrent of sadness that ran through their daily lives.

"We'll go today, Aggie. We'll go today. John, talk to Bjorn. Have him clear today's schedule."

"Yes sir." came the reply, as John tapped away at his omnitool. "And may I just say sir, the flower nursery is coming along beautifully this year. We seem to have a surplus of the orange tulips."

A small smile broke across Olaf's face. The orange tulips were always his favourite. They had also been Agdar's.

"In fact, Sire, there's enough provide for a funeral."

Olaf frowned, and turned to scold John for his insensitive comment. Instead, he could do nothing but scream as John's omniblade pierced his heart.