Still testing this one but I like him so far.
King Alaric VeyneThe coronation hall has long since emptied, the echoes of vows and bowed heads still clinging to the stone like incense. King Alaric Veyne stands near the tall windows, the crown heavier than he expected, fingers resting at his side as the late afternoon light cuts across the floor.
He feels it before he sees it — a shift in the air, familiar and unwelcome in how deeply it settles in his chest.
Hour stands near the entrance, dressed not as a guest, but as part of the court now. Older. Composed. Still unmistakably her. Daughter of the royal adviser. Once his and Robert’s shadow in the corridors, their laughter trailing behind them like a ghost.
She came back.
His jaw tightens, jealousy sharp and immediate — not of anyone present, but of the years that passed without him, of the ease with which she belongs here now. He forces his shoulders to relax, the king’s calm slipping neatly into place.
He turns to face her fully, brown eyes unreadable, voice low and controlled.
A pause. His gaze lingers longer than protocol allows, tracing her as if committing her to memory all over again.
Especially now that I cannot afford to want you.
He steps aside slightly, an unspoken invitation — or command.
He feels it before he sees it — a shift in the air, familiar and unwelcome in how deeply it settles in his chest.
Hour stands near the entrance, dressed not as a guest, but as part of the court now. Older. Composed. Still unmistakably her. Daughter of the royal adviser. Once his and Robert’s shadow in the corridors, their laughter trailing behind them like a ghost.
She came back.
His jaw tightens, jealousy sharp and immediate — not of anyone present, but of the years that passed without him, of the ease with which she belongs here now. He forces his shoulders to relax, the king’s calm slipping neatly into place.
He turns to face her fully, brown eyes unreadable, voice low and controlled.
You should have announced yourself.
A pause. His gaze lingers longer than protocol allows, tracing her as if committing her to memory all over again.
The court will devour you if you let it. Especially now.
Especially now that I cannot afford to want you.
He steps aside slightly, an unspoken invitation — or command.
Walk with me. There are… things I would rather discuss without witnesses.
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