Edgar sighed quietly, but grinned nonetheless as he looked in the mirror. The King of Figaro had grown grey over the years, no longer able to enjoy the golden locks he so loved. But it was a trivial matter to him, really – he had long ago given up his womanizing ways. After all that he'd been through in his younger years, battling alongside the Returners to defeat Kefka, Edgar had come to realize that he had more important concerns in life.

One such concern was politics, and that was something that had grown greatly in importance over the years. When the statues were realigned years ago, the entire face of the world was changed, and cities and kingdoms that were once together found themselves split apart. Once Kefka had finally been defeated, one of the first and most difficult tasks that the world had been presented with was to reorganize its political structure.

Edgar had, naturally, remained at the head of Figaro, with South Figaro just on the other side of their continent and under his direct rule. Kohlingen, Zozo, and Jidoor had all become protectorate states of Figaro, maintaining their local sovereignty while still remaining subordinate to Figaro's rule. Doma had expanded outward to include the port of Nikeah, and a few small, scattered villages along Serpent's Trench. Narshe, far north, had remained an independent city, content to stay back against the mountains and keep to themselves for the most part. Thamasa, far isolated from any other territory, had chosen to do the same.

The most notable change in world politics had certainly been the formation of the Southern Union out of the former Imperial territories. Tzen, Albrook, and Miranda banded together to form a single government after Kefka's defeat, functioning as a republic of sorts. Each city saw to its own local administration, but all three were subject to the authority of an elected Chairman who held ultimate power over the government.

Twice a year, the leaders of the three main world powers – King Edgar of Figaro, King Cyan of Doma, and Chairman Delaz of the Southern Union – met in council to discuss pertinent political issues, negotiate trade agreements and treaties, and ensure strong relations between their three governments.

It was for that semi-annual meeting that Edgar found himself at his mirror, carefully tending to his appearance. In just a few short moments, Chairman Delaz and King Cyan would arrive, and Edgar wouldn't settle to look anything short of impeccably professional before his peers.

"Maybe, my lord," the Chancellor chided from behind Edgar, "You should spend less time worrying about your hair and spend a little more time greeting your colleagues… Oh yes, they've arrived by the way." The old Chancellor smirked and gestured toward Edgar's chamber doors, which were promptly pulled open by a pair of guards.

"Twenty-some years later and I'm still taking orders from an old man," Edgar returned with his own sly smirk.

"May I remind you, sire, that you're an 'old man' now as well?"

"Well put," the king replied, "But I'll decline to comment. After all, I do have guests to attend to, don't I?" He chuckled once more and passed through the doors, making his way up the side tower and over to the main grounds of the castle.

Down by the castle's main entrance, he could see six figures being let in by the guards. The first ones to come through were led by the unmistakeable man who was Edgar's close friend, King Cyan Garamonde. Like all of his comrades, Cyan had gotten older, but he was by far the elder of the group. Now ripe into his seventies, Cyan still carried the same commanding presence Edgar had always known him to. His katana hung from his waist as it ever did, and his hair, now a salt-and-pepper arrangement, was pulled into his usual long ponytail. Really, save for a few extra wrinkles and a thinner frame, very little had changed about Doma's king. On either side, he was flanked by a pair of Doma's Royal Guardsmen, each armed with a smaller katana and standing proud beside their monarch.

"Cyan!" Edgar greeted him from a distance, walking swiftly down the main stairs to shake his friend's hand and share a brief embrace. He very rarely saw Cyan outside of these political gatherings anymore, so any chance to speak with him was a welcome one.

"Edgar," Cyan replied, "I hope thou art well… I have been eager to see thee again."

"Same to you," Edgar said back to him, "I hardly get to see you these days.. But no news is good news, right? I'm sure things are going well in Doma."

"Thou art right," said Cyan, smiling broadly, "We are prospering like never before… I trust Figaro has been treated just as well by these past months?"

"Of course, of course," Edgar took a step back from Cyan, "But we'll save this for later. I'd be awfully rude if I didn't greet my good friend Chairman Delaz." He smiled and shook the Chairman's hand.

"It's good to see you again," Delaz said, matching Edgar's smile, "I'm glad to see you in such good spirits." He withdrew his hand, and then fell into step with Edgar and Cyan as they walked back toward the royal hall, leaving both men's escourts behind. Delaz was clearly the tallest of the three, a well-built black man whose presence and stature demanded respect. His hair was short and spiked, his entire body toned admirably, and bulked out just a little from muscle. A rather heavy broadsword hung from his right hip, though he rarely ever drew the mostly ceremonial blade.

"It's hard not to be in good spirits," commented Edgar, climbing the stairs toward the heavy doors at the top, held open by two Figaro soldiers, "Things have been so peaceful over the years… Ever since Kefka was killed, we've been able to enjoy calmer lives."

"Very true," Delaz said with a knowing nod, "We can all thank both of you for that. It's no small feat, what you did, and I've always admired that."

"It was a duty," said Cyan, "I could not have lived with myself had I not done what I could… Thy praise is appreciated, but I take no glory for it."

"Always so modest," teased Edgar, "I thought after all these years that you'd finally get over that whole 'humble servant' attitude and start giving yourself some more credit."

"Edgar, thou know-"

"I know, I know, forget about it…" Edgar just laughed a little and ushered the two through the door, to the meeting hall. A rectangular wooden table sat in the middle of the room, and already the observers from Figaro's protectorate states, as well as Narshe, were present. Edgar took his seat at the table's head, with Cyan to one side and Delaz to the other.

"Now then," said Edgar, raising his voice to attract attention, "Since everyone is here, let's get underway. As always, on behalf of Figaro I welcome my good friends King Cyan Garamonde of Doma, and Chairman Ronaldo Delaz of the Southern Union."

The two men nodded as their names were acknowledged.

"And before we get to our official business, I would personally like to extend my congratulations to Mr. Delaz… This year marks the 10th anniversary of the Southern Union's formation, as well as Mr. Delaz's 10th anniversary as Chairman. It took us a little over a decade to finally organize the southern cities into one union, but now that we have, I think it's quite clear that they have prospered in ways we never imagined. The Chairman, and all of his officials deserve a great deal of respect for what they've done."

"Thank you very much, sire," said Delaz, standing up with a humble nod, "As the king has said, this year is the 10th anniversary of the Southern Union. Twenty-three years ago, when Kefka was defeated, we began the process of attempting to reorganize our governmental structure. The southern cities were left leaderless after the collapse of the Empire, and it was no small task to bring them all together. It took us thirteen years just to settle upon a constitution that everyone could agree on. But now that our government has been formed, and has come together, I'm happy to say that we've enjoyed a very successful, very prosperous existence, thanks in no small part to the generous aid we received from Figaro and Doma during our earlier years."

"It was our pleasure," said Edgar with a slight grin, "So… While we're on the topic of the Southern Union, Mr. Delaz, why don't you begin our session this evening? What does the Southern Union bring to the table tonight?"

"Actually," Delaz began, "We've been dealing with a bit of instability in recent months. There's a man from Albrook by the name of Golan Saldrim who's been causing a stir lately."

"Dost thou know his motive?" asked Cyan.

"Believe it or not, the guy's an Imperial loyalist."

"So there are still some loyalists around yet," said Edgar.

"It would appear so," Delaz answered, "As you can imagine, he doesn't have a particularly large following, but it's enough to cause us some trouble here and there."

"Is there any chance he might succeed in raising a significant resistance?" asked Edgar.

"Doubtful," replied Delaz, "He has maybe fifty or a hundred men to his name at most. We've officially expelled him and all his followers from all cities in the Southern Union, so he's effectively stuck somewhere in the wilderness in the center of the continent. We've had to step up security for VIPs and trade caravans to protect against raids by his men, but aside from that, he's been pretty quiet since we kicked him out."

Edgar leaned back in his chair somewhat, a finger tapping his chin thoughtfully.

"Good… We've had our share of loyalist activity around here too over the years, but it's never amounted to much of anything. I would continue to keep an eye on him, but I don't think this is anything that will require major action."

"I agree," Delaz said, nodding. With that, he turned the floor over to Cyan and sat back in his chair.