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Renalei was bored out of her mind.
She’d always hated meetings. Bureaucracy was not her forte. But the leaders of the Alliance always wanted the Warrior of Light present. So here she was, sitting at the war table in Ul’dah, between Alphinaud and Y’shtola, while the Alliance rambled on.
She tried to focus—she really did. And she did, to a certain extent. But then the subjects would start going over her head. Diplomacy was not her strong point. No, that was Alphinaud. The gods knew he liked the sound of his own voice. He meant well, it was true, but she wasn’t so sure how she felt about the Crystal Braves. How anyone thought giving a seventeen-year-old his own personal army was a good idea, she had no idea.
She leaned against her arm, resting her cheek on her hand, her mind anywhere but the subject at hand. Come on… She was the Warrior of Light! She had ruins to explore, Garleans to fight, and primals to slay. Attending stuffy meetings was not what she signed up for.
“...Renalei?”
The miqo’te snapped to attention, sitting up straight. “Huh?”
The Alliance leaders, Y’shtola, and Alphinaud all looked at her with varying degrees of chagrin.
“General Aldynn asked you a question,” Alphinaud said dryly.
“Oh.” She smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I zoned out there. What was the question?”
Gods… she really needed to learn how to at least vaguely pay attention. But she wasn’t used to this. Before defeating Gaius van Baelsar and destroying the Ultima Weapon, she had no part in the politics. That was Minfilia’s and Alphinaud’s domain. She didn’t feel like she belonged here, speaking with world leaders.
But this was the card she had been dealt. And she would have to get used to it.