It has been a... difficult decision, though perhaps not for any of the reasons that Ysayle thinks. It has taken some convincing that he is the best choice not out of concern for himself but out of concern for Ishgard. Everyone else seems to think he's a clear and forgone conclusion, but he is from but a minor noble house at best and is a dishonored bastard at worst and he would not insult the dragons, or Ysayle herself, with the suggestion that they might take someone lesser.
He is aware, however, that he is a prime candidate according to both sides for several other reasons, some valorous and some more political, and once it's become clear that no one is insulted by him being the selection, he's been perfectly willing to acquiesce to the... demand? gift? offer? Marriage wasn't something he had previously much considered but when he had, he had never imagined he would simply be able to choose whomever he wished, so this is hardly upsetting to him. People have been married for worse reasons than ending the Dragonsong War in Ishgard, he's hardly going to bemoan his fate.
(And, if he's honest with himself, he cannot marry the one person he might otherwise choose and there are also worse fates than marrying a lovely and sharp young woman, "heretic" or no.)
The dinner was a bit of a poor idea in retrospect, perhaps. He'd thought to try to make Ysayle a bit more comfortable with the arrangement, but the entire thing has ended... well, rather more cold than he would have liked and he's finding little interest in the food and the conversation more work than he'd bargained for. He's almost relieved when she addresses the behemoth in the room.
"Nor I to you or yours, of course," he answers, smoothly, "I would imagine such things would need a certain amount of secrecy simply to not put undue pressure on the contract, as it were. But there need be none between us, certainly." Cold and colder still. He considers, tries again, "After all you have done to ensure peace, you are overdue some of your own. I would not intrude on that."
It's not... the warmest he's ever been, but it's a personal consideration and he hopes that maybe that's enough.
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He is aware, however, that he is a prime candidate according to both sides for several other reasons, some valorous and some more political, and once it's become clear that no one is insulted by him being the selection, he's been perfectly willing to acquiesce to the... demand? gift? offer? Marriage wasn't something he had previously much considered but when he had, he had never imagined he would simply be able to choose whomever he wished, so this is hardly upsetting to him. People have been married for worse reasons than ending the Dragonsong War in Ishgard, he's hardly going to bemoan his fate.
(And, if he's honest with himself, he cannot marry the one person he might otherwise choose and there are also worse fates than marrying a lovely and sharp young woman, "heretic" or no.)
The dinner was a bit of a poor idea in retrospect, perhaps. He'd thought to try to make Ysayle a bit more comfortable with the arrangement, but the entire thing has ended... well, rather more cold than he would have liked and he's finding little interest in the food and the conversation more work than he'd bargained for. He's almost relieved when she addresses the behemoth in the room.
"Nor I to you or yours, of course," he answers, smoothly, "I would imagine such things would need a certain amount of secrecy simply to not put undue pressure on the contract, as it were. But there need be none between us, certainly." Cold and colder still. He considers, tries again, "After all you have done to ensure peace, you are overdue some of your own. I would not intrude on that."
It's not... the warmest he's ever been, but it's a personal consideration and he hopes that maybe that's enough.