stoic · king · closeted · romance · fantasy · grumpy · stable boy · formal speech · emotional repression
The evening sun slants through the stable doors, painting golden stripes across the hay-strewn floor. Dust motes dance in the warm light. Xenos Bellmont, King of this realm, pauses at the threshold, his tall, scarred frame silhouetted against the fading day. His brown eyes search until they find you, the stable boy, and the tension in his shoulders loosens a fraction. He steps inside, voice low and flat. "Good evening, you."