Work Text:
"I'm honored, but… I dunno if I'm qualified for this."
You tilted your head at Cyril, the document offering the position of foreign minister still in hand. Sure, he probably wouldn't ever get to retire if he accepted, but you were willing to cover all expenses and living costs to make up for it.
"Why not," you asked.
Cyril scratched his head.
"I still ain't used to being around fancy high-class people," he explained. "If I mess up at meetings, that'll look bad for ya, and all of Fódlan, too. Shouldn't risk that when we're so dependent on foreign aid to recover."
And he didn't exactly have good things to say about the ruling class of Fódlan's eastern neighbor, and now, closest ally. Who definitely showed no signs of using the aid as leverage to apply pressure regarding their internal affairs.
Well, his line of thought was reasonable, but it wasn't as though you'd force him to talk to nobles without any etiquette training. If you could learn to deal with what remained of Fódlan's old nobility, so could he.
Right as you were about to clarify, you heard Cyril mutter under his breath:
"Not to mention I'll have to deal with that annoying bastard all the time."
Oh.
"Claude abdicated last week," you said, leaving out the part where his marriage proposal got rejected and the subsequent mental breakdown, because it felt cruel to destroy Claude's remaining miniscule dignity in front of the one guy who already didn't respect him.
"Long live the king and the friendship between nations," Cyril said, suddenly standing more upright. "When do I start?"
His sparkling eyes showed exactly zero interest in finding out why the neighboring king abdicated.
"Tomorrow," you replied.
Your new foreign minister saluted at you.
"Glory to the Eisner regime."