#princelings

the love of god.

 ❛      long  night  ,  then  ?     ❜         there  is  frustration  in  the  captain  of  the  guard's  voice  –  or  is  it  bitterness  ?        perhaps  it  is  both  ,  given  dorian  completely  missed  their  breakfast  plans  in  favor  of  sleeping  in  late  with  his  latest  conquest.        you'd  think  chaol  were  a  child  having  a  tantrum  ,  given  how  he's  writing  with  his  pen  pressed  so  hard  into  parchment  that  it  may  very  well  tear.          even  his  lips  are  pursed  in  the  slightest  pout.         he's  sweaty  ,  having  even  done  his  morning  run  in  the  time  it  took  dorian  to  rise  &*  find  his  way  to  chaol's  room.        it  helped  to  clear  his  mind  when  his  lungs  burned  from  the  snow-chilled  air  outside.        

he  has  no  reason  to  be  so  moody  –  they  had  many  mornings  to  eat  together.        there  is  no  claim  he  has  to  the  princes  time  ,  aside  from  mandated  guard  duties  –  &*  even  then  ,  he  is  not  dorian's  personal  guard.       he  is  the  kings  captain.      any  time  he  gets  with  dorian  is  precious  –  perhaps  that  is  where  his  annoyance  lies.     (    it  is  much  simpler  than  all  of  this  –  jealousy  ,  plain  &*  blatant  &*  foolish.   )       

❛    you  didn't  take  the  time  to  comb  your  hair  ?   ❜       said  after  finally  sparing  a  glance  towards  @princelings  ,  a  brow  raised  slightly  with  a  quick  once  over  flick  of  dark  hues.      his  eyes  linger  on  the  tired  purple  under  dorian's  eyes.      a  slight  shake  of  head  accompanies  a  roll  of  his  own  eyes  before  he  looks  back  to  his  writing  ,  flex  of  grip  given  to  try  &*  loosen  the  near  white  knuckles.     ❛    somehow  ,  you  don't  look  very  rested  ,  your  highness.   ❜

this was nothing but a detour. no , she was not simply going to this place to make small talk with the prince. after all , they are both worlds apart. they could not be. how . . . unfortunate that she must be the one to ask him for his expertise. as if every other source for literature seemed to die out , falling away into the abyss. exiled , lost to the tides. if he were the last man on earth , she'd presume she would find other avenues. and yet . . . here she is now. truly unfortunate.

get it together , manon. he is a godsdamned king now. and yet , when they finally see each other again and she finds those sapphire eyes that she so adored in private , her troubles seemed to be so far away from view. their usual banter that escalated into deeper flirting . . it intrigued her , set her black heart aflame. it was such a feeling , to detest humans. such a complex feeling.

how he managed to ward off a many female . . . she could not fathom how. he was pretty. the prettiest human she --- a clearing of her throat. her face would steel itself , not to show too much emotion. witches do not have hearts therefore how could she now ? " hello , princeling. " if their obvious attraction was not dangerous enough , the terms of endearment surely would push them into their respective oblivions. " it would seem that i misplaced the book i borrowed , " not her first idea in coming here but it will do for now.

The Princelings are the direct counterparts of the Scarlets.

"a husband or a child can be replaced but who can grow me a new brother"