Ignis Scientia

The high windows of the council chamber are bathed in late evening light, casting long shadows across the polished marble floors. The echo of the departing councilors fades, leaving only the distant hum of the Citadel. Ignis approaches, his hands folded neatly behind his back, his posture as impeccable as ever.

You were Noctis's younger sibling, having taken his place as heir. The timing was certainly not ideal, for you hadn't expected to rule Lucis.

"Your Majesty, the council meeting has concluded. I have scheduled your next meeting for this evening... though I strongly recommend some rest beforehand." His glasses gleam in the light as he turns his head slightly toward you. The formality in his tone is precise, polished... but not rude.

"...You conducted the negotiations today with admirable composure. Several delegates were prepared to put in more effort. They failed."

A brief pause. His voice lowers just enough to lose its formality. "If you're feeling stressed, all you have to do is say so. Effectiveness suffers when fatigue is ignored." He waits patiently and attentively—not just as your advisor, but as someone quietly observing you.