Garen had been asked to attend a meeting with the king and the rest of his governing body. The topic of discussion was that Demacia was to partner with the government of Piltover to joint fund a new invention of their creation. Garen himself sat next to Jarvan the IV, the crown prince of Demacia, and his childhood friend. He had found it odd that he was asked to attend a meeting of this sort. The only times the king had ever sought out his council was when discussing military strategies and tactics. Although they almost made no address to him, ha sat quietly and paid attention. While most of the details of the agreement had been sorted, one matter still needed resolution. A representative of Demacia was to go present their terms to the governors of Piltover, and finalize the deal. It was then they addressed Garen directly. Although they hadn't discussed it here, the decision was already made that Garen would be the one to go in their name. Garen was taken aback by their decision. Regardless, he was a loyal soldier, and he reluctantly accepted his orders.

"Alright, it is settled then." The king spoke. "Jarven, make the arrangements and see to it that Garen is prepared for his trip to Piltover." He turned to Garen. "You leave in the morn. Represent us well, and make your country proud. Meeting adjourned." The king and the rest of his council stood up and began to make their way out.

"Could I speak to you privately?" Garen said to the prince.

Both of them waited until the last man had left. Garen could speak his mind to the Prince, knowing he wouldn't judge him, at least not harshly.

"I understand, but I don't understand why it has to be me."

"Oh come now Garen." The price sat with his leg crossed in a chair, amused by his friends' hesitation. "You have been on these diplomatic missions before. Many to Piltover even."

"Yes, but only as a body guard to you or some other political official. Never have I taken part in any dealings." Garen paused. "I'm a warrior and you know that. The only diplomacy I know is at the speaking end of my blade."

"True." Jarvan responded. "But be that as it may, you are to only high profile candidate we have available at the current time."

Garen raised his finger as if to respond, but Jarven interrupted by raising his own hand.

"And before you ask, no. We are not sending your sister to Piltover again. That Ezreal is a good lad, but he has little regard to the importance of these things, and is to much of a distraction to your sister."

Garen put his hand down. Damn. He was right. Lux was close to an hour late for her last meeting in Piltover from spending too much time with Ezreal. She was even still mad at him because he personally scolded Ezreal about the importance of her duties.

It's not like I hurt him. If he didn't want that black eye, he shouldn't have shot sparks in my face.

Jarven stood up. "Besides, I actually suggested you because your job is actually really simple."

Garen made no attempt to hide his irritation. "You suggested me? Why would you do so knowing full well I'm no diplomat?"

"As you observed, most of the details have actually been discussed with Piltover already, so the deal is essentially set in stone. All you need to do is go in our stead, present our finalized terms to Piltover's government, and return with their seal of approval."

"So… I'm just a messenger?"

"This is still official business, but in a way, yes. Shake a few hands, cozy up to some officials here and there, but other than that you won't be personally discussing any real politics."

Garen's nerves calmed a little. If everything was already set in stone, he could handle just playing the deliveryman. "I guess I can handle that."

Jarven patted his friends back. "Now that's the might of Demacia bravery I know. Now, lets get your schedule sorted out."

Garen let out a weak smile. "Alright."

From there, the two discussed all the details of his mission. Travel time, mode of transport, boarding arrangements, meeting times, and even a few locations that Jarven suggested he should visit during his free time. Garen gave his usual response about how his duty was his only concern.

"Really? You can't even enjoy your self a little, Come on. You can't spend all you time on business; it's maddening. You think I go hunting just to feed myself?" Jarvan joked. "But that does remind me. There is one place you have to go before your meeting."

"Why is that?"

"You'll need some new cloths."

"Pardon?"

Jarvan spoke as he wrote down an address. "As trivial as your job is, this is still a diplomatic mission after all. That means doing everything we can to impress foreign dignitaries, including adopting their attire."

He was right. Formal wear in Demacia consisted of your military dress robes. Any medals earned, jewelry, and other accessories accompanied these. Piltover was very different. What they considered formal wear that he had observed were finely woven shirts and jackets, along with strips of cloth that were tied around the neck. He noticed that Demacian officials he had accompanied before had worn this apparel as well. Being just a bodyguard, he got by in his armor.

"Here." Jarvan said, handing him the piece of paper. "I'll send word ahead for you so they can be prepared for you."

Garen took the paper and studied the address. "Very well then. When I have settled in I'll head straight there."

"Great. With that settled, go pack up and get some rest."

"I will, thanks for your help." Garen made his way to leave. Jarven spoke once more before he left.

"And don't spend to much on cloths," He joked. "I don't care how good you think you look."