The closed horse carraige came to a rough halt in front of the castle gates where two stoic gaurds stared silently ahead. Christoph sat in the quiet confines of the stuffy, cloth furnished carraige for a good, long moment as he stared down angerly at his clenched fists. He was a man, damn it! His father had no right sending him away like this! Pride and protocol be damned, Christoph would not let this slide without taking some sort of a stand. For now, however... he was powerless. The young Ealdermen by default stole a final breath of the musty cab, and then swung open the black laquered wooden door before placing one of his brown-boot-clothed feet on the little step.

Knowing the sunlight to be brutal in Nharati this time of day, he whirled his cloak around over his head like some mockery of a vampyre and stepped out. Momentary glare blinded him temporarily despite his best efforts, and he stood there, his annoyance growing, until his weak eyes could grow used to it.

"Will that be all, m'Lord?"

The surly youth was confused for a moment, caught off gaurd, by the carraige driver's impatient voice. He recovered, straightening up and forcing himself to look at the man despite him being bathed in eye-peircing light. Christoph suddenly noticed that his luggage had somehow been transported from the undercarraige to his feet without him noticing; probably during his little dark-to-light transition.

Silvery eyes squinted into little slits as he once again forced a smile on his features. A long fingered hand waved the man and his gaurd off.

"Yes, off with you now. My father must be waiting with bated breath for your return with tidings of my 'untimely' demise."

He could not see much detail, but Christoph could swear the man looked somewhat taken aback, if not a little bit disgruntled by his statement. Well, 'twas probably the truthe, really. He was an embarresment to his father and mother, and considered much lower than filth to his brothers. He could not give so much of a rat's tail for any of that however. Not in his conscious mind at least.

"What are you waiting for?" sneered the youth, ignoring the strange pang that hit the center of his chest. The mustached carraige driver nodded stiffly and climbed back up to his seat where he snapped at the reigns of the four elegant brown horses. They were gone in a cloud of dust in seconds. Christoph sighed, watching them until he could not longer see the hint of black paint in all that greenery. When he was damned good and ready, the raven-haired ghost of a man pivoted on his heels and looked to the gaurds.

"I come to see the king, and ask for his sanctuary on my father's behalf. I request audience with him at the next court session."