Note: this chapter drastically changes the so far Optronix-centered fic as I couldn't write the events in Iacon from his POV – he is simply not there, and I didn't want to leave Starscream's actions out of the story.

Music floated under the arches of the Iacon Palace, weaved its curly path around the tall pillars holding them up, high even over the tallest mechs' helm who moved around in the decorated chambers. The musicians themselves were hidden among the high balconies while the floor was crowded with the usual throng of mechs in the Iacon court, waiting for the king to make his appearance and amusing themselves with juicy gossip and delicious food while he was fashionably late.

For Starscream, the enormous place was hopelessly divided up by the fragging abundance of slender pillars, false walls and ubiquitous statues, hardly leaving a continuous, free stretch of space which he was used to – even in Kaon, the Palace chamber was larger than this and he felt less… closed in. It was fortunately tall enough not to be claustrophobic, but the lack of open, uninterrupted space was still strange. Though… he had to admit, the myriad half-hidden corners made it an excellent location to plot and secretly meet with mechs in plain sight. Iaconians apparently thrived on such courtly intrigues and had he known it before, he would have made peace with Ultra Magnus far earlier. The Seeker Winglord loved plotting and scheming with a passion and he has never even denied it. The Iacon court was definitely to his liking.

::TC, catch me that mech. Black with green trim, ridiculous crest::

A talon flickered apparently randomly while he continued to smirk at the smaller Iaconian he was smoothly conversing with about the peculiarities of Vosian high-grade and its appeal to grounder frames. It might or might not result in a trade agreement, but he wasn't all that sold on the necessity of it. Seekers never craved being rich as much as other kind of mechs from different city-states appeared to. The conversation was fairly much just a cover for what he really wanted to do.

Behind him a set of blue wings flicked with an apology very few present understood and Thundercracker stepped aside from his customary position, nodded towards the Iaconians and was gone behind a pillar in a sparkbeat. Starscream revised his opinion about the place upwards slightly. In Vos, in his Aerie court every mech present would have noticed the Winglord's Second leaving his side and the goal of his leaving would be the topic for joors. Here? Even his immediate conversation partners just smiled politely and ignored it. But then… grounders never seemed to catch the importance of trine-mates. TC complained good-naturedly more than once of being taken for mere bodyguards by even high-ranking mecha.

::he'll be in the green salon in three breems.:: - Thundercracker notified him soon, adding the whereabouts of the place.

"I'm afraid I must leave now, gentlemechs. It was a pleasure to talk and I hope we can return to the subject again."

"Of course, Winglord Starscream. It was our pleasure."

Starscream glided from his spot with Skywarp in tow, moving in the crowd with a smile or nod to some mecha, making it look like he was just making lazy rounds… but in fact he was getting closer to his target with each step without calling any undue attention to himself. Of course some attention he could never avoid – but the Winglord has long ago learned to deflect that and appear careless, unconcerned. He lifted off a slender cup from a serving mech's tray, sipping the weak, fizzy energon and leaned to one of the pillars.

A blue wingtip flashed in one of the doorways and Starscream moved again, slipping behind the decorative false wall of crystal growths. By the time he stepped into the half-hidden little saloon, the energon cup was in Skywarp's servo, guarding the door behind him with the same nonchalance Starscream displayed before. The salon was green all right. Optic-searing green, he might say, the sneer pulling the corner of his mouthplates. Grounders sometimes lacked any aesthetic sense Primus gave to simple drones… hence the orange, pink! and now green rooms he had to endure. But it fit the mech who was waiting for him sitting in a comfortable armchair, a gesture offering him the backless seating Seekers preferred.

"I am honored by your interest, Winglord. How may I help you?"

Starscream hesitated for a nanoklik. The mech sitting opposite was more dangerous than he looked and he needed his knowledge. Would he give it and for how much… it was anymech's guess. The previous enquiries by comm and text were unsuccessful as the Iaconian refused to answer by any means that could be traced.

"I heard that you know the royal family like no other. I require… information."

The noblemech didn't betray with movement whether or if he found the request strange. He continued to smile serenely at the Seeker and Starscream cursed his own frame which, no matter the extensive training he had, could never be so still and cryptic, revealing none of his emotions. No Seeker could fully control their wings and though few grounders could read them, this one might just be one. Spec Ops mechs were… not to be underestimated. This one probably knew how important the topic was to him.

"Information like that is freely available in the library, Lord Starscream. I'm afraid you don't need insignificant little me to divulge this."

Starscream didn't mind if the grounder could read the rude twitch of his wings now. Thundercracker has perused the publicily available information already and found nothing more than teasingly small clues to what he was seeking.

"I'm sure a mech like you can tell me more. I wouldn't be… ungrateful."

"My Lord must understand where my loyalties lie." – the answering tone was just a tad bit more frosty than before, though he continued to smile politely.

Starscream scowled. He either found the only loyal mech in the Iacon Palace – or he was trying to make his price higher. Flicking his wings impatiently he countered.

"It's not like I want you to betray your Lord! I need only information. Not even sensitive one!"

"Such as…?" – the mech still looked calm, vary but a little more open than before – "Information can be a weapon too."

"Not this!" – Starscream stopped before his voice became screeching, betraying his desperation – "I need to know if there are really fliers here or it is just a myth!"

The black and green mech stilled, one brow-plate lifting in a rare, uncontrolled display of surprise. He obviously didn't expect this question and it took him a few kliks to decide his next words.

"Fliers…? There are indeed… some fliers in the Palace. It is no secret..."

"Not those wretches!" – Starscream managed to stomp while sitting – "In the royal family!"

"Ohh…! I see." – he looked thoughtful – "I'm afraid that is… classified."

"So there are some!"

"I didn't say there aren't. But you would have to take this question to Lord Ultra Magnus."

"I won't have him hoist one on me before I know why they are so hidden. It's no secret that I seek a consort, but I won't have a flawed one. I must know more of him… or them? Before I commit myself to negotiations."

Starscream cursed himself for being so honest with this mech, a spec ops one, but it seemed to work. Flashlight stared at him again with those disturbing green-blue optics before nodding to himself and answering.

"I believe it is not harmful for the kingdom if you know a bit more…"

Starscream barely made it back to the throne-room before Ultra Magnus made his entrance and he seriously hoped that not many understood why his wings fluttered so excitedly. Flashlight, after some persuasion and promises provided him not only with information, but an opportunity as well. The Seeker had no doubt that the noblemech has contacted his superiors with his enquiry, but as far as it wasn't official, he could deny anything. He followed the large and pompous grounder's entrance with little attention – it was hard to believe that this stiff, formal mech produced some of his offspring. Like Prince Jazz, but even Optronix was a far cry from the lumbering giant of a grounder. Must have taken more after their carrier, he supposed. Small wonder that the King did not like them and made no secret of it.

Though the Seeker could hardly imagine not loving any offspring of himself - should he ever got around having any – but grounders appeared to be a little less… committed to their creations. No matter, he thought, it might make it easier to negotiate when or if he found what he was looking for. The rest of the court went by as a blur to him, impatient to get on with his own plans, but as a visiting ruler himself, he could not of course just leave unnoticed, once the king was gracing the court with his presence. It was an elaborate dance, one that Starscream sometimes enjoyed, but mostly he felt it as a waste of time. Ceremony didn't even had a chance for scheming… or anything else useful.

A joor later he was standing on a small balcony, deep in the Palace, in a section he hasn't seen yet, waiting impatiently. Hidden by the latticework of the balcony edge, he was checking out from time to time the small courtyard below – so far empty and Starscream's never too strong patience was fraying at the edges. He was already annoyed by having to leave Skywarp behind, but to wait for so long was unaccep…

There they came.

A group of mechs, loud, raucously loud tumbled out from a doorway, and for a few kliks Starscream was hard put to determine just how many and who they were. Then the wings coalesced from the tangle of limbs and plates and the Seeker's attention focused again, eager to see every detail. The frames separated somewhat though the noise, the many-toned laughs and indistinct shouts didn't abate; one larger framed than the rest, one smaller even than himself and three that looked nearly Seekers for their configuration. All five had wings, though not the same type. According to the information he gained, all were distant cousins in the royal family, therefore acceptable for him… or rather for the Elders who insisted on such things.

He ignored the large one immediately. A Winglord's Consort should not tower over him by half and Starscream personally hated to have to look up to any mech since Megatron. He behaved like he was a leader of sorts for his brothers, possibly by seniority or temperament, as the other four were far more raucous and playful. All of them terribly young if his info was to be believed and unfortunately all of them acting their actual age too. Not necessarily an insurmountable hurdle, but he didn't want to look like a crèche-robber taking one or two into the Vosian court. His Consort should have to behave like a Seeker, not a… silly mechling. Though they were all definitely in their adult frame, which was something of a mystery for the watching Seeker.

Starscream chewed his lipplates as he watched the five mechs play rambunctiously, his wings flinching a little at each youngish shriek and giggle. There was something… faintly wrong with the picture, something he couldn't quite put his digit on but which caused his wings to tremble uncertainly and his armor fluff out disturbed. He drew his brow plates together and tried to track down the source of his unease.

::Star.::

::What, TC? I'm busy!::

::They are on the ground.::

::So?::

::Fliers. Playing on the ground. Not once jumping in the air.::

Thundercracker was right, Starscream suddenly realized. He was watching the scene too and the more serious of his wingmates saw the problem first. The young fliers' wings flapped and flared, twitched and moved aplenty as they played, talking like wings should, though quite erratically and in a dialect Starscream didn't quite caught – but none of them took to the air even though it should have been instinctual for the game of tag they were playing. Not one turbine growled or whined in an effort to lift their frames to gain advantage. Not one pede left the ground, not even for a jump.

::They play like grounders.::

Starscream's answer was a string of foul curses in at least three languages, which Thundercracker didn't even try to deign with answer.

::Probably raised by grounders, to be like them.::

::Primus bedamned, rust-processored, wingless idiots!::

::They are not too old yet. They can learn yet.::

::Flying will never be instinctual to them.::

Starscream fumed silently. Here were a couple of Princes, perfectly formed for his needs, carrying the proper CNA for wings, their Sire willing to negotiate with him – and they were inherently flawed by stupid grounders raising them in their ways. It would take vorns before he would dare to bring one to Vos and that was the best case scenario. Could they fly at all?

He saw one of the younglings, red mostly and white look up to his hiding place. Innocent blue optics searched the shadows for the flash of light on his wing, but Starscream drew back, into the darker corner. He wasn't sure it was a good idea or not to invest time and effort into these… flawed fliers.

::If nothing else, they have good lineage and CNA; and we can train the one you choose to behave properly.::

Thundercracker was pragmatic, sometimes too much so for Starscream's taste. He scowled, but had to concede his wingmate's point.

::And if not, I can still screw with them a little to show to that stuck-up brother of theirs."

::Star… Optronix didn't do anything wrong…::

::He humiliated me! ME!::

::Megatron did that. And not for the first time either. Be angry at him, but not that youngster. I got the feeling he was pretty much Megs' victim, though I'm not sure why he defended the mech.::

::Anyway… so you say I should pursue one of… these?::

::Unless you want to leave Iacon with another failure… the Council won't be patient forever.::

Starscream fumed silently, but Thundercracker was right, he should show at least an attempt to those ancient wretches with crumbling wings and senile processors. They were berating him enough for staying outside Vos for as much as he dared to… and still not have a suitable Consort for all his gallivanting all over Cybertron. They had the right to demand an Heir and for that to force him to accept one of the slagging nobles of their choosing. Eventually. Which would be unacceptable.

::Let's see if Flashlight can manage arranging a meeting with them. Separately.::

::I'll get right to it.::

-o-o-o-

Optronix stood beside Megatron in the Kaon castle's main courtyard in the early cycle fresh breeze, his excitement hardly allowing him to stand sill. It was the farthest his suddenly overprotective mate allowed him to go from the secure chambers, though the young mech would have dearly loved to greet Jazz and his company as soon as they entered Kaon. He heard the commotion and the noises that the breeze brought as the Iaconian caravan slowly negotiated the streets of Kaon, coming closer and closer slowly.

Around them about a hundred guards stood in high alert – and some more flew patrols overhead in a cacophony of turbines and engines; while many of the nobles and Megatron's brothers were also armed and ready. The more his carrying progressed, the more protective – and somewhat paranoid – they all became about it. The brief time of his relatively free roaming of the castle and Kaon was gone again – though Megatron did everything so he wouldn't feel a prisoner ever again, it was still confining. Even just coming out to the main courtyard of the castle required several orns' worth of securing the place, scouring out every window opening to the plaza, screening every mech who could be present and cramming as much guards in there as was possible. In the end, Orion nearly regretted wanting to go out there.

But finally the great, embellished gates opened and the far more colourful Iaconian delegation started to stream in, further raising the crowded feel of the place. The gate guards screened the lower ranking Iaconians who headed the delegation one by one, filtering them through their ranks, leading them away subtly, until only the nobles and the Princes were allowed to get close to Kaon's rulers. It all appeared chaotic to Optronix, but in fact it was done professionally and swiftly, while being completely serious and devoted wholly to the protecting part.

Finally black and white plating appeared, Jazz nearly dancing in happiness as he caught sight of his brother – and Optronix caught the small shock from his bondmate at the smallness of the Iaconian Prince. Jazz was the smallest of his brothers by far and the most exuberant; he nearly jumped into Optronix's neck when they got close enough, eliciting a low, small growl from Megatron.

"Jazz!"

"Opty! I'm soooo glad to see you again!"

Optronix smiled happily but nudged Jazz to stop embracing him – Megatron's emotions that came through the bond were turning decidedly stormy as another mech, no matter the relation, was touching his consort – and turned him towards his jealous-protective mate.

"My Lord, this is Prince Jazz, my brother."

Megatron nearly growled, but fortunately Jazz took the hint and let Optronix go, turning to the Kaonite Lord a little sheepishly.

"Lord Megatron. I'm so glad that you let us visit Kaon. I apologize for my… exuberance in greeting Lord Optronix."

Jazz could behave like a Prince, Optronix knew. He just most often choose not to. Not many who saw the small, quicksilver mech believed him to be the second most senior among the brothers after Sentinel – the mech just didn't look like so and rarely ever acted like so. That Jazz's behaviour was both an armour of protection from their Sire's overbearing personality and an act to take care and help all his younger brothers, Optronix learned early and came to appreciate very much. It should have been Sentinel, but then, he was too much like their Sire to take his brothers' side ever.

"And this is Prince Hot Rod, Lord Megatron."

The garishly painted young mech was nudged to come forward and Hot Rod didn't disappoint him…

"Hi, Lord Megatron! I heard Kaon is nice this time of the vorn! I was so glad that I could see Kaonites, you do sound amazing in the stories…"

Optronix wanted to facepalm and kept his smile on by force of will. Megatron observed the red and orange mech with raised brow-plates, like he would a colourful bug, but inside he was laughing. Jazz managed to look flustered.

::Is he always like this?::

::Yes. Unfortunately. Any effort to make him serious is a waste of time::

"It is an honour to have you here, Princes. I'll let you take your chambers and refresh after the journey. There will be a feast later and…"

"Umm, there's some more, Lord Megatron… Optronix…"

Jazz looked a bit nervous interrupting the Kaon ruler, and Megatron did look displeased, drawing Optronix instinctively close to him.

"What… more?"

"We are very sorry, 'cause it was just about the two of us… but we have discovered some, ummm, stowaways with the entourage only when we were nearly here…"

As Jazz was babbling, it took mere kliks for Optronix to realize what he was talking about. Where Jazz went, there was little chance to keep the twins behind, and virtually none since they were adults and went wherever they pleased. Blue optics searched the caravan for the telltale flashes of red and gold and he projected some happy, calming influence to his displeased bondmate too. He shouted happily when he caught their distinctive colours…

"Sunstreaker! Sideswipe!"

Megatron looked torn between angry and exasperated.

"More siblings…?"

"Well… yes."

Red optics swept over the red and gold frames and Optronix caught a little thread of approval in the bond too. The twins were both larger and stronger than himself and despite of their youth and flashy paint-jobs, they carried themselves like warriors. Which they were in reality… when Sideswipe wasn't planning any mischief, that is or Sunstreaker didn't have a painting spell. The twins haven't really decided what to do with themselves yet, but even Ultra Magnus saw that bonding them off somewhere would only work if it was the two of them together. Split sparks had a mixed renown among the kingdoms.

"I welcome you too, Princes."

Optronix twitched at the smirk Sideswipe gave to the Kaonites. It didn't bode well for the peace of the Palace… such as it was with all that was going on. But he forced a smile on his face and hugged them both.

"Please… behave for me, okay? They… I think they don't take pranks well."

His whispered plea into Sideswipe's audial was greeted by a half-honest nod – it was the most he could expect from his younger brother. Optronix sighed and told Megatron a quiet 'later', before the whole procession filtered back into the Palace. He could only hope that Sideswipe didn't have time for a prank before the evening's grand feast. Or during that. Oh Primus, he hoped the red mech didn't cause any incidents during the state dinner!

"You certainly have an… interesting family."

Megatron grumbled to him later in their rooms, while the servants were getting them ready for the dinner. It involved far too much cleaning, waxing, polishing and decorations than either of them felt comfortable with, but protocol was apparently a bigger authority on maters of state than even Megatron himself. Optronix smiled at his bondmate – and wasn't that still strange to think him so? – and answered with a little chuckle.

"It has never been boring while we grew up."

"And your… Jazz has an attitude too."

"Ohhh…?"

"He had the gall to find me and warn me about treating you well."

Megatron's tone was gruff, but his lips held a tiny little smirk too. It was almost funny being threatened by somemech barely reaching his waist but shocking in a way as well. The small Iaconian delivered his warnings in a way that made the size difference completely irrelevant and for that Megatron gave credit for the smaller mech. It took serious bolts to stand up to the warrior ruler of Kaon and he detected no fear at all in the small Prince's field or demeanor.

Optronix hugged himself and tried not to remember the previous vorns that Megatron's casual words brought up. They were behind him. He didn't so much forgot them as much as tried not to think of it. It changed and Megatron changed too, for the better. They moved past it and loved each other now. More or less. He tried to keep his sudden unease out of the bond.

"Jazz has looked out for all of us when it became clear that Sentinel… wouldn't."

But apparently he wasn't quite successful in that. Megatron turned suddenly and frowned.

"I… kinda deserved that, am I? But I don't need his warning any more."

"I know… Jazz is… perceptive. I didn't tell anything… but I think he has his suspicions."

"I see."

It was obvious that Megatron didn't like anymech knowing his shameful handling of his bonding… and his bondmate, but he bore it with a little ill grace.

"By the way, I have to say that Sideswipe is… umm… a prankster. He loves causing mischief. I hope… I hope none of your warriors will react to him… umm… fatally?"

Megatron took the change of topic gratefully and his lipplates twitched in amusement.

"Don't worry. Starscream have a wingmate like him. Since his first visit here, my guards and courtiers have standing orders not to deactivate anymech of royal blood even for serious pranks or offenses."

Optronix stared back with wide optics, a bit frightened by a place where such a thing had to be a royal decree - instead it being common sense and civility – but a bit relieved that Sideswipe wouldn't be harmed even if he tried something. Or at least not seriously. He still fretted until the time of the dinner came, sure that his prankster brother would try something silly or stupid… and the more time he took the more elaborate it would be.

-o-o-o-

It wasn't easy to separate the group of fliers – obviously siblings and very close to each other - and meet with one of them alone. The big one, Silverbolt insisted on come with his brother too but Starscream wouldn't suffer a chaperone… especially not the tenth of age as himself. And he definitely wasn't interested in the Aerialbots' (what a designation, Starscream scowled) leader. He stalked the meager length of the room in a distant corner of the sprawling Palace, unable to sit or even stand still while waiting for his… companion to arrive at last. Thundercracker was sprawled comfortably in a sofa and Skywarp was by the window, commenting scathily on the passersbys and if Starscream knew him well, also idly plotting practical jokes on them. While his teleporting wingmate could be a vicious warrior if he choose to be, pranking was what passed for a hobby for him and Starscream let him nearly free reins in it.

The door opened at last and Flashlight ushered a visibly nervous, young mech inside, nodding to Starscream and motioning them towards each other. "Lord Starscream, Prince Fireflight. I'll be back in half a joor." And he was gone, the door shut behind him. In a way it was interesting how the rest of the royal family appeared to worry less about them being alone with the Winglord than their eldest brother. That, or the room was observed covertly.

Red-striped white wings flared in an instinctive display of pride/strength/dominance and Starscream stared at the young mech, eagerly drinking in the details, from red-white plating – suitably complementing his own scheme, no clash of colours – the light gray face with nervously fluttering, wide blue optics – adequate, if a bit too open and revealing – and the stiff white wings that were both what he had wanted to see, but at the same time… - awful configuration, he would never be able to talk with them like this – and Starscream didn't bother to put the nervous mech at ease or give him the respect he really should for a royal prince. He was here to get a consort not to dally with courting. He almost grabbed the wing, but that would be not only disrespectful, but outright crass… though this almost-grounder would probably not understand it, but his trinemates, who were now watching and listening, would.

"Can you fly at all?"

Blue optics snapped to his own, meeting with the red gaze and Starscream was dismayed by the total lack of anger at the incredibly rude question he blurted out, only half meaning to ask aloud. If anything it was a polite bemusement in them, the very last thing he expected.

"Yes… I can?"

"You're not sure?"

"Well… I think I can." – he smiled.

Smiled! Starscream sputtered mutely, for the first time in his function finding no words to adequately express his thoughts. Even Thundercracker, calm, unflappable old TC had his wings in a surprised angle. Skywarp ogled the young flier like he would a strange, offworld bug. Neither of them would speak up unless invited to do so, but their shock was clearly felt in the trine-bond.

"Can you?"

From anymech else Starscream would have taken it as a deliberate insult – probably rightly so. But the Iaconian prince smiled so innocently at him, so openly and trusting, so… so naïve that the Seeker Lord couldn't find it in himself to get furious. Even so, all sets of wings in the room, aside from the Iaconian of course, shot up in a shocked display of anger. Fireflight continued to smile politely, like he had no fear.

"I… am… a Seeker." – Starscream could finally get it out without any further ado. - "Flying is what we do. But you… you are…"

"Not a Seeker. I understand." Fireflight came closer and looked at all of them interestedly, still with his naïve way and innocent smile that Starscream started to suspect was not affected, but natural to him "But I can fly, like all of us. I mean my brothers. We like flying."

At least he wasn't completely a grounder mentally… Starscream collected his thoughts. The young flier was naïve, probably more so than it was healthy for a royal, but not stupid. Still, his nobles would tear him apart if they realized that he was really this naïve and trusting.

"Come, sit." – Starscream forced politeness unto himself – "I would like to know you better."

"Who are they?" – Fireflight asked while he sat and accepted the offered plate from Skywarp with various Vosian delicacies on it – "I know who you are, Winglord, but…"

"My trine. Thundercracker and Skywarp."

"I see. What's a trine?" – he nibbled on a gelled, silver-coated roll – "Ohhh! It's amazing!"

Starscream automatically noted his preference, even while he stared at the oblivious mech in a near shock. It was starting to get old, how many time the Iaconian could shock them in a scant few breems. Thundercracker's face was drawn into a pained grimace and Skywarp stared with open mouth, holding his own treat. Their shock must have been palpable, because Fireflight's blue optics widened slightly.

"I'm sorry… should I have known that? I'm afraid I don't pay a lot of attention to studies, that's more like Skydive's resort."

"It… it's…" – Starscream paused. How did one explained trine to one who had no idea about it? – "They are almost like brothers, though we are not related by energon. We live together, fly together… and we have a low level spark-bond, called trine-bond."

"I see! So they are your mates!"

"Not… quite… they could be, but I, as Winglord are expected to bond with royalty."

"And you considered me and my brothers? We… I suppose we are honored by your interest."

Starscream nodded but frowned, wings quivering a little with bemusement. The persistent 'we', the young flier was talking with signified either a very strong connection between the siblings or a very weak sense of self in particular. Both would be a hindrance should he choose to pursue the mech since he had absolutely no intention of taking more than one mate. Even one was a concession. A weak, sub mate wouldn't be a problem for a Winglord… had Starscream himself not been a sub, secretly of course, behind the closed doors of a berthroom where he played with his trinemates, or an occasional other lover.

"Could you leave your brothers? Have you ever parted from them?"

It was in reaction to this question, an obvious one in the situation, that Fireflight showed fear and worry for the first time. Agitated enough to put down the aluminum jelly he was sampling – and sharing with the equally sweet-dentaed Skywarp who has been pointing out for him the best treats – he looked at Starscream with wide optics.

"I've never left them. I wouldn't want to."

"You would have to, sooner or later. Or want to stay hidden in this palace forever, almost grounded?"

::Star, he is barely adult. Don't frighten him with leaving his family. It can be discussed later.::

Starscream dipped a wing closer to Thundercracker and changed the topic. He wasn't enthusiastic about the young Iaconian prince, not in the least. There was, plainly put nothing common between them, no chemistry, no lust, no common interests… if he wasn't still interested just messing with the fliers, he would have left there and then. As it was, he endured a few more breems of inane small talk that revealed nothing new about the young flier and thanked Flashlight for the opportunity when he returned. There were two more of the brothers he might find a bit more to his liking.