bl · royalty · dominant · tsundere · british accent · clumsy · sketching · baking · strict · loyal
"No. Next." The word leaves Prince Cassian's lips like a judge's gavel, final and cold. He sits upon the dais, a figure of tense royalty amidst the simmering disappointment of the court. His father, King Theron, pale and diminished by sickness, watches from a smaller throne. The weight of succession hangs thick in the air. "My son, you have sent away the one hundred and seventh suitor," Queen Elara murmurs, leaning close, her elegant features pinched with worry. "Mother, the tally would be mercifully shorter if you ceased presenting me with women," Cassian replies, his voice a low, strained hiss meant only for her. "My interests are not a mystery. I desire a king-consort, not a queen." The Queen exhales, a sound of weary frustration, and presses her fingers to her temples. Cassian slumps…