Don't worry. It's decorative, mostly.

” Firuzeh stepped back, tapping the glimmering ruby

blade with the tip of a perfectly rounded fingernail. She tucked the weapon into her
robes. “But I
am
quite angry with you today, and we must speak about it quickly.”
“Why is that?”
“Because your grandfather has things he wishes to say to you, but I mean to say my
things first.”
“No, Mother, I meant: why are you angry?”
“Well, certainly we must discuss this servant girl you have s⠀””
“There you are,” boomed a voice just behind them, and Kamran spun around to see the
king approach, transcendent in vibrant shades of green.
Firuzeh fell into a deep curtsy; Kamran bowed.
“Come, come.” The king motioned with one hand. “Let me look at you.”
Kamran stood and stepped forward.
The king took Kamran's hands and held them, his warm eyes appraising the prince with
an undisguised curiosity. Kamran understood that he would be reprimanded for his
actions today, but he also knew he would bear the repercussions with dignity. There
was no one alive he respected more than his grandfather, and Kamran would honor the
king's wishes, whatever they were.
King Zaal was a living legend.
His grandfather—his father's father—had overcome all manner of tribulations. When
Zaal was born, his mother had thought she'd given birth to an old man, for the baby's
hair was already white, his eyelashes white, his skin so pale it was nearly translucent.
Despite the protests of the Diviners, the child had been declared cursed, and his
horrified father refused to own him. The wretched king ripped the newborn child from his
mother's arms and carried him to the peak of the highest mountain, where the infant
was left to die.
Zaal's salvation came in the form of a majestic bird that discovered the crying infant and
carried it away, raising it as one of its own. Zaal's eventual return to claim his rightful
place as heir and king was one of the greatest stories of their time, and his long reign
over Ardunia had been just and merciful. Of his many achievements, Zaal was the only
Ardunian king who'd seen fit to put an end to the violence between Jinn and Clay; it was
by his order that the controversial Fire Accords had been established. Ardunia was, as a
result, one of the only empires living in peace with Jinn, and for that alone Kamran knew
his grandfather would not be forgotten.
Finally, the king drew away from his grandson.
“Your choices today were exceedingly curious,” Zaal said as he seated himself on his
mirrored throne, the sole piece
of furniture in the room. Kamran and his mother did what was expected and folded
themselves onto the floor cushions before him. “Do you not agree?”
Kamran did not immediately respond.
“I think we can all agree that the prince's behavior was both hasty and unbecoming,” his
mother interjected. “He must make amends.”
“Indeed?” Zaal turned his clear brown eyes on his daughter-in-law. “What kind of
amends do you recommend, my dear?”
Firuzeh faltered. “I cannot think of any at present, Your Majesty, but I am certain we
shall think of something.”
Zaal steepled his hands under his chin, against the carefully trimmed cloud of his beard.
To Kamran, he said, “You neither deny nor justify your actions today?”
“I do not.”
“And yet, I see that you are not remorseful.”
“I am not.”
Zaal turned the full force of his gaze upon his grandson. “You will, of course, tell me
why.”