Anubis groaned as he turned in his bed to keep the sun from shining in his eyes. After laying there for a moment, the male groaned and got himself up when he realized today. He ran a hand through his hair well, at least tried to before he ran into knots; groaning, the male got out of bed before walking to his private bathroom to shower and do his other business. Once Anubis did that, the male walked out of the bathroom and frowned when he saw his best friend sherlock holding a plate filled with fruit.

"Is there a reason why you're up this early, Anubis?" the female servant asked. All the male did was shrug his shoulder before grabbing a piece of fruit off the tray. He couldn't help but smile as his friend playfully glared at him for his silence which was common around the castle for the male didn't tend to speak much, which would get him overlooked. Anubis sat at his vanity and began brushing out his hair that had seemed to grow longer as days passed. Even though the male had a servant, he never could get past someone doing things for him when he could do them himself. Putting s couple of braids in the front of his head, and the male left two braids to stay down while the other got to put up into a half up half down style. Looking into the mirror with a nod, the male then turned to his friend and gave her a quiet "morning" since he finally realized he hadn't said anything to her yet, which got a chuckle out of the girl who just shook her head and fed her friend companion who happened to be still sleeping next to their owners' bed.

He held a warm brew of tea in one hand and an old scroll in the other. His eyes were tired and held the obvious signs of a sleepless night, yet other than his eyes everything about him seemed alert and ready for anything about to come his way. Prince Atticus was a quiet man, who enjoyed his reading but this was no matter of hobbies. This was a mission, one only an elder brother would undertake. In his hand was a scroll of all the Kingdom's and their various monarchs, Prince Atticus was scouting.

'Aegir Smith... Prince of the Storm Lord's of House Smith. Notorious for sailing and rumors of piracy... A Dastardly Rouge'.

'Alexander of the Guilded House of Cross... Born to one of the most wealthy families on the continent, yet also one of the harshest only second to 'A Belaerys in war-time', the bards say... Surely a man of the peasants'.

'...And a good friend', he mentally muttered. Though now he was an enemy in this instance.

'Prince Erisdar... Known by many as the Song of Ice and Fire due to his duel magics. Powerful. Dangerous. Luckily his power was uncontrolled...'.

'Prince Merlichon... Little is known of him due to his status, the last in line of over twelve. Rumors suggest he enjoys more eccentric parts of life. Whatever that is exactlyis unclear...'.

'Prince Nazeen... He holds little power but is known in the courts of his homeland for craftsmanship and intellect. Adored by the small folk'.

"Five princes... And that doesn't even discount the princesses...", he growled to himself. Atticus was never one for confrontation but the matter of his dearest little sister's marriage was something else. It made him upset...

He was the youngest brother of three, a third born prince who would surely never gain much power if things went well for his eldest brother, Arion. He was the one who was supposed to be protected by his elder brothers. All he was in the grand scheme of things was a pawn his father could use for an alliance, Atticus wasn't one to beat around the bush. He knew of the political games behind it all. His fist clenched slightly.

But Amara, she gave him purpose. Finally, he could be the one to protect someone. The one who offered guidance. He wasn't a pawn to her, Atticus knew that. No, she was only his little sister, and he adored her for it. But with the potential of her marriage...

Atticus sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew what this was about, another peg in a wheel of politics. Marry off a child, forge an alliance, stronger kingdom, future blood ties, forced loyalty... A whole slew of nonsense. Yet as much as Atticus was opposed to this, he couldn't outright deny it. His father's word was law, metaphorically and literally. His father as King had forced him to not take action against him in the matter, only to grin and bear it for the sake of bettering the family.

Whilst he sold his sister away to the highest bidder.

To say he was furious was an understatement, and the cloak and dagger of it all was salt on the wound. Stating that a ball would be held, surely its to allow nobles to try an court his sister. No, Amara was smart enough to see what this was... He was sure to guide her through court since day one with extreme vigilance. His frown deepened. Amara must be dreading the coming days.

Rolling up his scroll, he left the library just as the light of the morning sun entered through windows as he strode down the halls. He had no particular direction, but he naturally seemed to begin drifting towards the rookery...

His raven needed feeding. It was near the stables, maybe Amara would be nearby. She was quite fond of the place. Her and those horses, he'd never understand. Atticus was never much of a rider... Making a mental note to check for her as he went towards the court yard, he shook his head of his negative thoughts. His raven Vhagar could sense his negativity just as easily as a wind carries a chill.

He spotted Amara, and smirked internally. Of course she was heading towards the stables, he quickened his pace before falling into step with her.

"Good morning, sister", he said simply. His eyes holding a kind glimmer even if they were marred by his exhaustion.