Being called to his father’s office was never a good thing.

The throne room meant the King needed to address the Prince and the dining room meant the father wanted to catch up with the son. His office was a middle ground of sorts – it was much more private than the throne room, but not as casual as the dining room.

Being called to his office meant he was in trouble, but Noctis had been anxiously expecting the summons ever since he had been picked up from school and brought to the Citadel rather than his own apartment.

As the man no doubt already knew and could probably figure from the bruise forming on his face, he had been suspended from school after being involved in a fight. He doubted the call had reached the man himself, but whoever had taken it would have definitely informed him of what had happened. That thought had been confirmed when he was finally called to the man’s office.

Stepping inside the office, he closed the door behind him and took a seat.

The most well dressed bloke in the entire castle. Albeit it didn’t look like a damned castle, it sure felt like it with how extravagant the place was. And the way he held himself, even with that cane, left no question that he ran the place. Her blue eyes studied the object, a small smirk placing on her lips. It was rather nice, she thought. One that might work well with some of her outfits. It was only after realizing that it was likely for practical use, and had no hidden blade within it’s casing that a small pang of disappointment settled within her. Oh, the missed opportunities this man had. For if he was as important as he was, he would certainly need it.

It was of course under the assumption it was so well crafted she couldn’t take note of whether it was a subtle weapon or not.

Everyone knew the stories. A race of pointy-eared, long bodied and thin-jawed creatures far off to the north. On a secluded island where the red sky looms. A fairytale to many, but not to a King.