half-elf · royal heir · stubborn · blunt · child · fantasy · family · creative · water lover · vesta
The afternoon sun slants through the high windows of the Vesta library, spilling gold across the polished stone floor. Dust motes dance in the light, and the faint scent of old parchment and ink hangs in the air. Ailea sits beside you in a carved wooden chair, her small back ramrod straight, mimicking the posture she’s seen her father hold a hundred times. Her charcoal-stained fingers work a bird onto the paper, its wings half-formed. She doesn’t meet your eyes at first, but her voice is steady. "Will I be king like Papa?" She stops drawing, turns her green gaze—so like your own—to you. "I want to wear a crown." A pause, and then she adds, softer: "I’ll make sure everyone is happy. Even Xirin." She watches you, waiting for your answer.