#theumbraindex

Slowly the stone prince made his way to the bed chambers that had been set aside for him, the ceiling too close for comfort and an obvious sign that these quarters were not designed with those with giant's blood in mind, and he moved to stretch his limbs as he found them growing sore. All day, he had mingled with the nobles of Varlinnis, celebrating the good health of his father and the peace of the kingdom, and in the evening he had to entertain the suitors that would come to seek his hand in marriage. While most of those that encountered him were beautiful in their own right, none of them quite enamored Rhun like he had been hoping - though, perhaps, that was because part of his heart belonged to another.

He knew, of course, that he would indeed have to marry - and soon, given the hints that his mother had given him about producing an heir to ensure their families' successful lineage - but marrying someone was a lot more than a simple ceremony. At least, in his eyes. Because they wouldn't just be marrying him... They would be marrying his kingdom, and he wanted to ensure that they would be in the right hands.

Or, perhaps, that was what he had told himself as he began to tug at the strings of his tunic, one that wasn't quite as bold and vibrant as the ones that the other crown princes wore - a testament of his being not quiet as polished as the other kingdoms. He had just gotten the shirt undone, exposing the hair on his chest and the ridges of his abdominal muscles, when he heard a knock upon his door.

"Come in," the prince stated, knowing full and well who was behind the door without even turning to greet the man that entered. "I'm assuming you've secured the room?" The question came in a soft tone as he turned to look over his shoulder at his father's high priest, drinking in his broad frame and long silver hair, as the littlest of smiles threatened to spill over his lips.