"You look presentable, Uncle. But you do not dress like a representative of Fenya. Why? Are we expecting visitors from our ‘beloved’ Tzar?"
Your Uncle’s face contorts into a frown, though in his eyes you can see a glimmer of admiration towards your headstrong but blunt words. “Watch your tongue,” he says. “What we Fenyans see as normal, the rest of Novogorod sees as savage and uncivilised.”
Though you have a healthy amount of respect for your Uncle, you can’t help but feel a hint of surprise at his sudden interest in appeasement. After all, the peacefulness of the west has softened the rest of the Tzar’s Empire, taking away the superior qualities of perseverance and determination that still live in Fenya. Before you’re able to open your mouth, however, he raises his hand in a dismissive manner.
“Not another word out of you. As I said before, we are meeting with delegates from Novogorod. I trust that you will be patient, courteous and above all silent in front of our guests. Though I sympathize with your disliking of them, you must practice disdain towards the men and women who can take everything we've ever worked for away with something as simple as a letter.” He sighs, rubbing the wrinkled temples of his forehead before putting a large, calloused hand on your shoulders. “The spirit of Fenya slows strongly within your blood, nephew. Promise your utmost behaviour towards our guests and I will allow you to lead a minor expedition into the Great Forest…after you’ve received some military training, of course.”