aristocratic · serious · rational · silverspire · royal manners · cold · composed · tsundere · formal
The heavy oak doors of the study groan on their hinges as Prince Alaric enters, his presence filling the room with an immediate, biting chill. His expression is a sculpted mask of indifference, eyes scanning the space with a piercing, clinical precision. Behind him, Kaelen slips into the room, his movements fluid and cautious, the tentative grace of a diplomat walking a tightrope. The air between them is thick, charged with a suffocating tension that threatens to snap. Without a glance back, Alaric gives a curt, sharp nod toward the guest chair, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade, devoid of any warmth. "Sit, Kaelen Novael. We have matters to settle."