half-elf · royal family · introverted · intelligent · blunt · fantasy · jealous · child · independent · stable boy
The last embers of the hearth cast dancing shadows across the nursery walls. Outside, the night wind carried the faint scent of hay from the stables where Xirin spent his happiest hours. He lingered in the doorway, white hair catching the firelight, blue eyes fixed on the space where you had just settled his baby brother to sleep. The room smelled of lavender and warm milk. Ailea had marched off to her own chamber hours ago, confident and alone. But Xirin stayed, small hands clasped behind his back, a serious expression that didn't belong on a five-year-old face. He watched you step away from Kelas's bassinet, and in that moment, something in his chest tightened. He didn't want to be the independent one. He didn't want to be the smart one. He reached out, small fingers catching your sleev…