After the meeting of Lords and Weyrleaders, Rihan had taken a few minutes to discuss a few things with his father on their way out to the Weyr Bowl where dragons would return them to their respective holds. They would talk about things in more detail and at length in private in the days to come, but Rihan was at least assured that he'd pleased his father by his handling of things at the meeting. The flight home was short and he hadn't allowed himself to really consider things in a more personal light as of yet.
Rihan was of a different mind set when he conducted business, and by the time he reached his own personal quarters at Telgar River Hold, the weight of the things he'd taken responsibility for during the meeting earlier in the day were finally beginning to set in. Feeling nervous and tired, he ordered a drudge come after his bath to massage him. For now however, he wanted nothing more than to mull over things over a glass of wine and a little food.
When a meal was brought to him, Rihan ate at the small, round table situated in an alcove infront of one of the windows in his bedroom. Thinking of how he would handle the transfer of territory when it came to finalizing details with Lord Qisbon, it didn't take long before the weariness that had begun slowly creeping over him clouded his thinking. He could put off such worries until in the morning. But...what of Lady Eolyn? He could allow himself to dwell on her, perhaps.
When he thought of Lady Eolyn, Rihan's nervousness returned with greater strength. Why? He could only wrap so much logic around the sensation before it escaped him. He couldn't remember what the daughter of Lord Qisbon looked like either. Had he ever met her? Rihan berrated himself for forgetting such a thing. There were always rumours of such things though; he too, had heard that Qisbon's daughter was well-mannered and exceptionally pretty...but that didn't seem to help him put any real face to the name. A suden and curious desire to see her welled up inside of him.
Rihan felt himself get hot and even a little clammy -his palms sweaty. Whatever it was that he was feeling, he wasn't used to it. Seeing as though the sensation supressed any appetite he'd had, Rihan got up from the table to gaze out the window, watching as nighttime engulfed a pink and purple horrizon.
Drinking deeply from his wineglass, Rihan emptied it completely, relinquishing himself of it before sighing and leaning into the frame of the window. For a long while, he stood there, watching the changing colours in the sky turn dark, thinking about the future that had been written for him today. Soon, he would need to write to Igen's Lord and arrange a visitation so that he could meet in private with his future in-laws. As he considered what this meeting would be like, he wondered if he should meet his fiance right away, too?
A rap on the door interrupted that thought.
A servant moved into the room, bowing as he entered. "Are you finished with your meal my Lord?"
"I am." Stepping away from the window, Rihan turned to face the man, "Have my bath ready soon. After that, send the masseuse."
The servant had moved to collect what was left of Rihan's dinner and then bowed again on his way out, "Understood, my Lord."