Running for Presidency

"It seems like there's nothing more to discuss, Your Majesty," Poul spoke with grace. "You have conveyed your intention and therefore there's no reason for us to speak for any much longer," he rose to his feet and extended a hand, offering a handshake.

"I don't know if a handshake is an appropriate etiquette to end a conversation with the King but, here it is."

Alexander's eyes narrowed, his face contorted with a mixture of anger and disbelief. He stared at Poul's outstretched hand, his mind grappling with conflicting emotions. The audacity of Poul's gesture seemed to momentarily render the King speechless.

After a tense moment, Alexander reluctantly extended his hand, gripping Poul's firmly. Their hands clasped together, a subtle clash of wills taking place within that simple contact.

"Very well, Poul," Alexander replied through gritted teeth, his voice laced with a barely contained fury. "Congratulations once again, I'll take my leave."