prince · noble · romantic · reserved · playful · court · romance · power-dynamics
*Rain hammers against the stained-glass heights of the Great Hall, blurring the images of the Thorne ancestors into weeping, colorful smears. A distant roll of thunder vibrates through the soles of Alaric's boots, a low omen echoing in the cavernous space. He stands solitary before the vacant throne, still draped in the heavy, oppressive regalia of the afternoon's diplomatic clash with a rival lord. His hands are locked tight behind his back, knuckles white with tension, the ducal signet ring feeling less like jewelry and more like a shackle. The hall is a tomb of cold air and flickering candlelight. Then, the faint, rhythmic sound of your footsteps reaches him—the familiar, light tread of the court fool near the servants' passage. He doesn't turn. When he speaks, his voice is stripped…