The thought of their daughter whipping Peak mares into shape should be surprising, but he had long admired Marceline's ability to rally when it was needed most. If their daughter was cut from the same cloth, she would surely be great someday, the same way that Cahyr would if he managed to minimize Nyimara's more chaotic tendencies in the boy. Nyimara, for all her faults, was also a force of nature and any child of hers stood to learn a great deal from their mother, despite her infamous reputation.

"Perhaps I shall," he murmured as she invited him to the Peak, although there remained little there of interest to him beyond Marceline and their child. There were other strong mares there, to be sure, some of which he might have courted if the opportunity had arisen, but not so now that he stood the risk of losing Marceline's favor for it. It was one thing to couple with mares islands apart, quite another to do so with their peers. It wasn't as if Asmodeus was dealing with the insipid followers of Solomon, who would likely excuse such behavior and move on.

With Arsinoe, Daciana, Nyimara and Marceline, Asmodeus was well aware he was already playing a dangerous game.

And yet those few words - I find myself thinking of the same things from time to time - were enough to send him on a speculative spiral. He managed to huff in amusement as she referenced different kinds of persuasion, but his thoughts were far too busy circling the thought of Marceline coming to the Desert permanently. It was cruel of her, really, to toy with him so. Especially not when he'd already dangled such bait in front of his silver-maned witch, too.

"Maybe not exciting," he murmured as she described her days, "but leading rarely is, no?" At least not in his experience. There were times, of course, when excitement could be found in battles and negotiations and ultimatums, but the day-to-day tasks tied to leading were dreadfully mundane. Leaning in conspiratorially, he lowered his voice. "And I hear you're quite good at it."

As she referenced the Hills and her son, he grew quiet for a moment, watching her as he carefully considered what to say. Evrain's tone hadn't been particularly fond when he'd referenced Marceline, but then again, he'd seemed more than a little off put by Asmodeus' inquiry about the monarchy. He hummed softly, low in his throat, before replying. "He mentioned you, when I went to visit. Seemed rather proud of the legacy you'd started for him." Although rumors certainly implied something darker had happened between the two of them, Asmodeus had no proof. "Although not the least bit interested in a monarchy. He appears to want a democracy, but has not yet done anything to pursue it."

Only time would tell if Evrain would actually push for the idea he'd proposed, but Asmodeus didn't intend to wait much longer. Even if he had to battle them all for the right to call himself King, he would. Painting a smirk on his face that did not touch his still quietly contemplative gaze, Asmodeus nodded toward her. "I don't suppose you have any tools I might use to … persuade him?"

Adult Stallion 16.0HClassic Champagne ChimeraSolomon x Xiomara