The Paradise King took a deep breath, his whiskered lips parting as he watched Carthage disappear into the dense underbrush. Only time would reveal if their alliance would bear fruit. Sigurdr struggled to trust others; a lifetime of betrayal had made him cautious and skeptical. He turned to Astarte, observing her reaction to their solitude. His icy gaze traced her strong shoulders and broad back before resting on her dark eyes, where he found her full attention as she began to speak. A smile crept across his pink lips in response to her words.

"Well, what is it that you would like to say?" he inquired, tilting his head slightly. Did she intend to question their agreement, or was there something deeper she wished to discuss? Regardless, he was eager to hear what she had to say.

It had been years since he claimed the Harbor for himself, and the crown had barely settled on his head before he departed the isles. Such was the way of his family, rarely did they linger long in one place. They were Vikings, sea travelers conquering lands far beyond their own borders. He craved the thrill of conquest, yet a yearning tugged at him to return to the Isles. It was a desire to put down roots, to feel the familiar land beneath his hooves, and to watch his family grow. He sensed he stood at a crossroads, faced with a difficult choice ahead.

"How long have you and your brother been in Atlantis?" he asked, allowing his gaze to drift from her to the verdant canopy of their home, now bathed in the soft oranges of the dying light. When his gaze returned to her, he couldn’t help but admire the curve of her nose and the way her dark hair cascaded down her shoulders. He hated to admit it, but she was a treasure, one he was pleased to add to his collection hidden away in Paradise.