phil dunster, homosexual, male + he / him β isn't that wyll dellamorte? iβve seen them wearing the crest of umoria. i hear theyβre 33, but theyβre also a half-elf. theyβve risen up the ranks to become the leader of the thieves guild. they seem to be charismatic & flamboyant, but also paranoid & selfish. if you look closely, youβll see their aesthetics include shadowy alleyways, glittering coins, the flash of a hidden blade, playful patterns, vibrant colors, white-painted faces with painted red lips in wide smiles, and a sense of wonder and spectacle.
Pavor Notcurnus is a traveling circus infamous for its exotic menagerie and death-defying feats. Inside of the big top, the denizens of the continent can forget their worries, indulging in the colorful cacophony. In the middle of the ring, Wyll Dellamorte, ringmaster, master of the revue, and leader of the Nocturns, basks in the admiration of his audience. It was said that he was once the abandoned bastard of a prince, born of a dalliance between royalty and a common whore. If any of that is true, it's been long forgotten. Wyll would have hated being a prince, preferring the limelight over any stuffy court. Long ago Wyll had been nothing more than a guttersnipe who had found his footing as a pickpocket.
Raised by prostitutes, thieves, and charlatans, Wyll had grown up fast. Having a knack for pilfering pockets, picking locks, and slipping in and out of sight had made him an excellent sneak thief. Taught by the best, Wyll passed his wisdom to other orphans who operated beneath him. Being naturally charming made Wyll dangerous, capable of capturing the attention of any unfortunate to catch his eye. If anybody did give him a moment of their time, their pockets would be picked clean by his little crows. Wyll amassed his ill-gotten gains like a dragon, until inspiration struck him. He would open a traveling circus and extend his operations all over the land. Why settle for pilfering from one empire when he could pick it all clean?
With a wide variety of talent under his employment the likes of which had never seen, his traveling show was a hit. Only it hides something sinister beneath its colorful veneer. Wyll Dellamorte uses it as a front for his thieves guild. He scooped orphans up and off of the street, employing them as workers within the carnival, or training them to become thieves. Those who truly impressed him, and had been loyal to Wyll, became one of his Nocturns. These specially trained birds, just like their master, deal in all matters of espionage and the occasional assassination. Their main goal is robbing the rich blind to line their own pockets, caring very little for the needs of the empire. Believing that his own father had been a prince who had abandoned him, leaving him as an orphan, has embittered Wyll who in turn, despises nobility of any caste.
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Alesander smirked a little, the other mentioning that there were no laws for it, but that he would run the risk of all sorts of terrible demises, and that he would bare no responsibility for it. He chuckled, folding his arms over his chest. "I don't know why, but something tells me you wouldn't actually let any such accident befall me. Besides I am more than capable of keeping myself out of harms way from your....pets." He watches as the other bowed and then produced a ticket from his sleeve before finally introducing himself. The smirk on his face grew ever so slightly. "Tell me is that the type of tricks you're good at? Charming the viewers and making tickets appear?" He looked at the ticket, flipping it back and forth before looking back to Wyll. "Tell me is this your average ticket? Or does mine get me anything special since its coming directly from you?"
"you're right. I wouldn't let anything befall that pretty little head of yours." wyll resists the urge to pat alesander on top of it. "accidents are bad for business. if people hear that one of my pets ate a guest, I would be ruined." it had happened a few times before, but only because people poked around where they shouldn't have. if anybody did suspect wyll and his troupe of being thieves, they would be admonished. they were all merely performers trying to bring joy and light to the people of the empires. "I'm very good at what I do. If I was a terrible people person, I would be an awful ring master. It comes with the territory." wyll says with a wink before shaking his head. "nobody gets special treatment. no matter how pretty they might be."
γγwas he just called a pet? the prince swallowed his pride with a deep breath, chin up, straight back. if he was outside of that tent, it was not out of sheer pleasure. there was a looming intrigue regarding the arrival of a travelling circus to the docks of ritrinc. the spare taking note of the many people, both human and humanoid, settling themselves by the edge of the capital. his father dismissed it, not quite invested in whatever the common folk deemed as entertainment. solomon couldn't turn a blind it to it, and so he took matters to his own hands. if there was anything sketchy happening in there, he would take note of it. five royal guards in hiding, waiting for the royal to command them if needed. he could have summoned them right there and then, punish the ringmaster's insolence - but then again, how would he know he was speaking to a prince?
γγ"no need for that. i am here in representation of king calder of house saewine." he confronted the taller male, confident in each step of his boots. "i am prince solomon, and i have come to run a general inspection of your performance and your facilities."
a prince? well, he hadn't expected royalty to visit his little show. if he had known he would have rolled out the red carpet..right into the chimera's cage. but wyll would play nice, for now. he didn't particularly care for nobility, and with how solomon regarded him he felt as though the prince was snubbing him. standing up straight, wyll offers solomon a smile that was dripping in sincerity. "my apologies, your highness. if I had known I wouldn't have been so callous." wyll dips into a deep bow, masking that he had cast a glance at a lanky boy nearby. he merely lifts his brows, signaling for little crow to make sure everything was in order. wyll straightens up, having procured a bouquet of roses seemingly out of nowhere. "these are for you, your highness. it would be impolite of me not to offer a prince a gift." he grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
he straightens up, placing a hand at the small of solomon's back before gesturing at his carnival. "welcome to pavor nocturnus!" on cue two off duty clowns pull strings on concealed devices in their sleeves, sending confetti and streamers into the air. wyll beams at them both, then at solomon. "come, let me show you into the big top." without waiting for an answer he ushers solomon inside. the structure is impossibly tall, with ropes and a highwires hanging from the ceiling. in the middle of the tent a trainer is working with a hydra, perfecting the art of balancing large rubber balls atop of its many heads. with the sudden appearance of solomon the training is all for naught, the hydra turns to face solomon and her master. "that would be lola, my beloved." he says, referring to the hydra who flicks at the air with many forked tongues. "isn't she precious? hatched her m'self."
Alesander wasn't quite sure how he had ended up the tent, but it was quite a view. If the tent was anything to go off of then the show was going to be absolutely fascinating. When he heard the voice speak out to him though, he chuckled before raising an eyebrow.
"Pet? You use that nickname for all your customers? Or just the special ones?" He took a few steps forward. "Are there any laws about loitering? Besides whatever it is you plan to charge me, I am sure it would be affordable." Arms folded over his chest almost daring the other to do something. He smirked as his eyes scanned over the other, he was pretty. "I doubt you'd want to actually chase off a potential customer."
Oh, hello. If Wyll had known that such a pretty boy was waiting for him he would have been kinder. But he couldn't risk any sort of distraction. Especially as far as his traveling circus was concerned. "There are no laws about loitering. But if you're here before the show starts you run the risk of being crushed, or devoured by one of my pets." Wyll says, thinking back to the time when a vagrant had snuck into the big top, only to be eaten by the hydra. "if you do insist on lingering I'm not liable for whatever befalls you." Wyll says, watching as a ghoul and his elven handler moved to the entrance. The ghoul would sniff for blood on guests before entering, deciding if they could enter the circus or not. "Ah, but where are my manners?" Wyll dips into an elaborate bow before the former whore. He straightens his back and produces a ticket from his sleeve, "Wyll Dellamorte at your service." He offers the ticket to the whore, "As an apology for being so rude earlier." That would grant Alesander access to the circus once the revelry started later that night.
It was too early for a crowd to have gathered inside Pavor Nocturnus. A glance was enough to tell any passerby that the place, while run-down enough to come across as seedy, was dazzling at night. The mouth of the circus tent was made to look like the grinning maw of a demon, ready and eager to devour whoever stepped inside. Just outside of the big top, Wyll was tending to matters regulated to a ringmaster. Tonight's show would be a bloody spectacle the likes of which had never been seen. Above the ravenous mouth of a hydra, a tightrope walker would cross one end of the tent to the other. After that he would have a quartet of juggling cyclops perform their routine, followed by "unicorns" jumping through hoops of flame, before the grand finale which involved trapeze performers soaring high above open flames, and without a net to catch them. "If you've come for the show you're a few hours early. Come back later, pet." Wyll doesn't regard the man who had been waiting for his attention. He instructs a cyclops to set down a booth that would later be used for fortune telling nearby. "If you're going to loiter, I'm going to charge you. Piss off."
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the boy had a mouth on him. godefrius let out a bark of laughter, more from surprise than offense, and let his hand linger on wyll's back in a borderline inappropriate manner, fingers splayed low on the boy's back. he had the feeling that if he let go, the boy would dart off in the crowds and godefrius couldn't have that, not when he was having plenty of fun with wyll next to him. and he hadn't had this much fun since, well, quite some times. "your highness, the words that came out of your mouth," godefrius huffed out, shaking his head in part amusement and disbelief. "truly, did your majesty allow you to go out on your merry way and talk like that to his guests?" this part was rather interesting because, after decades of working for the king, his majesty would be caught dead before he allowed the princes to act like a scoundrel but, perhaps, umoria worked differently.
"hells." amidst the momentary surprise, godefrius couldn't help but stare at the retreating back of the man, brows drawn into a slight frown. with the state the man was, it was no doubt he rushed to get out of the crowds despite nearly as naked as the day he was born. "how could he walk around in that state? people nowadays have no shame." his gaze then returned to the boy pinned between him and the wall, the hand that was still circling the boy's waist, and the lack of distance between the two of them. a pause, before godefrius grinned at the boy, feeling amusement rose sharp in his chest. "oh, my," he murmured, voice low like a purr, "you finally got me where you want me to be, hm, little prince?"
"that poor man. I hope he finds his outfit soon." wyll smiles. he would find it later, crumpled up and abandoned where he had left it. by then wyll would be long gone, having hopefully stripped godefrius of all of his clothes. the man's big paw on the small of his back rooted wyll in place, assuring him that he was in safe hands. "it took a lot less than expected, I'll admit." he chuckles, looking up into the man's big brown eyes. now that he has godefrius where he wanted, what would he do with him? wyll hadn't thought this far ahead. his mind was made foggy by the hand circling around his waist, drawing him in closer and closer. wyll responds in kind, his own hands moving of their own volition. they travel up and over the heft of godefrius' chest before settling on his shoulders. "let us go somewhere comfortable. it would be unbecoming for a prince to be caught with his trousers around his ankles." wyll purrs, desire having lit a raging fire in both his loins and those big brown eyes .
busy streets provided plenty of cover for the vagrant prince. concealed beneath a black velvet cowl, wyll was up to his usual antics. coronations brought people together from all walks of life, providing wyll with plenty of purses to pilfer. wyll had set his eyes on another dressed in a gray robe, deciding they would be his next hit. he maneuvered through the crowd, placing himself on the same path as the gigantic man. wyll hadn't expected to be nearly crushed. the other man had tripped over something and nearly collided with the tiny prince. wyll didn't let that momentary chaos deter him, however. his fingers had quickly worked their way into the man's pockets, extracting a pouch of gold with ease. score! wyll was just about to turn on his heel and walk away before a familiar voice called to him. the boy nearly jumps out of his skin, suddenly kneeling as if picking something off of the floor.
"here, ser. you must have dropped this." wyll keeps his head down, concealed beneath the hood of his robe. he stretches out both hands, cupping the pouch so he can offer it to the half-giant. klogrog had nearly gotten him caught before, and he wouldn't be so kind or forgiving a second time. "you ought to be careful. somebody could have stolen it."
γγ"one single ring would not change much in the long run." solomon mused, unsure if his words were meant for wyll or to himself. if only solving poverty was that easy, every hut would become a castle - and it had to be considered, some people couldn't even afford the luxury of a hut in the first place. "if you want a long-lasting change, perhaps it would help to learn on your kingdom's economy rather than going around pick-pocketing like some vandal. you have power. use it." he was the first-born to the heir, he would be king someday. and there were very few things that solomon could stand less than an ignorant crown prince.
γγglum. that was something the older prince had not been called yet. the redhead turned to the fellow royal, giving his crow a side eye before considering his offer. the bird leaning forward to affectionately peck on the ginger's hair. the signal was clear. "for now, it would suffice that you take us to the kitchens. preferably to fetch some fruit or nuts."
wyll was unused to having power in a meaningful sense. he stole to make ends meet, and to help feed the other orphans in the slums. now he was a prince with a royal purse, and lofty ambitions. unfortunately wyll was very short-sighted, knowing only fleeting pleasure and the thrill of the hunt. in time he would recognize the umorian people of his own, tending to their needs and providing succor to their ailments. but for now? wyll was just having fun. he wasn't going to be wearing a crown anytime soon. "yeah, yeah. but that's no fun." wyll waves off solomon's genuine concern with a roll of his dark brown eyes, "I should teach you how to steal. it's a useful skill to have." he winks at the discarded prince and his crow.
it was easy slipping back into the courtyard of the castle, wyll guided them to a shaded path, overrun with thorns and thick foliage. wyll pushed a curtain of vines aside to reveal an opening large enough for them to sneak through. once solomon was in the courtyard, wyll followed and sprang up on the other side. "if anybody asks I've been with you all morning." he says, running a hand through dark curls. solomon would quickly learn that wyll had slipped out of the castle without permission plenty of times as two armed guards approached the pair of princes. wyll explains that he had been showing solomon around the castle, playing the part of a dutiful host. "we just finished touring the gardens. tell them, solomon." he nudges his fellow prince and unwilling partner in crime with a smile.
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γγthere was a discomforting silence as wyll professed about the plights of the poor. a very harsh and very real reality to many of the people across the six kingdoms. something that was quite easy to ignore for royals such as solomon. his expression remained all the same, however, eyes squinting at the raven-haired prince. "am i to assume that my ring would go to feed those less fortunate?" hands were now placed on his hips, chin tilted up. "i would have understood if it was a street urchin taking away from me. not agreed, but i could rationalise it, perhaps even let go of it. you are a prince. there have been times in which less offensive acts have ended in wars. foolishly so, but nevertheless. it is just indignant."
γγnot even the sudden compliments of the umorian could humour the redhead. he was already annoyed by that point, and wyll would have a rough time making it up. still, very begrudgingly, solomon could say something nice. "well to be fair, you have a talent. awful talent, but if it wasn't for cedric, i would have never figured out you were behind the crime." he did not even look at wyll in the eye, walking past him into the castle instead. "and be glad it was i whom you crossed."
just as quickly as wyll had appeared sympathetic a wry smile appeared on his lips. "it could have. but you just had to have it back, so I guess we'll never know." wyll says with a playful pout of those full lips. donating his spoils to the poor was a good idea, one that hadn't crossed wyll's mind until solomon spoke. he was so used to hoarding his treasures or selling them off in the name of self-perseverance. "well I should consider myself lucky that it was you that I stole from and not somebody uptight." wyll follows after solomon, walking beside him as they leave the markets. "what can we get up to that would put a smile on that face? you're so glum." the prince points out, hoping to make up to solomon for stealing from him. he wasn't good at saying sorry or being sympathetic, but he had a talent for making people smile.
γγa huff came through his nose. "i wouldn't considering thievery as an occupation, but be my guest." there was no way in which solomon could ever imagine a highborn slithering around the marketplace, stealing from innocent bystanders just for the sake of it, and yet wyll stood right there before him, only having returned what he stole because he was caught red-handed. "and surely your father would not find it as an acceptable excuse, either. did you not consider he would ask of your whereabouts?" if he was the crown prince, he would make sure to have his son in check, and ready to receive any important family coming to visit ritrinc.
γγif he was the crown prince...
γγwithout even realising it, wyll had poured salt over a wound that never seemed to heal. no, he would never be king. he would be a king consort at best, and at worst, die as just another name in the book. ready to be forgotten. "do not worry, i am not the heir to my kingdom." he spat out coldly, leaving behind the almost playful sarcasm he had answered with earlier. "you will have to deal with this tense prince for longer, unfortunately."
wyll scoffs, "what a blessing it must be to have never known hunger. to have always had a warm bed to sleep in and servants to tend to your every whim." his mother had done very little in terms of caring for him growing up, leaving wyll to fend for himself. if it hadn't been for his own cunning, skill, and persistence he would have died in the gutter. "you ought to reserve your judgement, prince. there are those less fortunate than us that have no other options." that was ironic coming from wyll who had all the luxuries of a prince but still resorted to thievery. it was all he had ever known and in these great times of uncertainty, it comforted him.
"that's not a bad thing, is it?" he couldn't have imagined the pressure that would have came with being crown prince. how a person would be molded into becoming the next ruler of the realm since childhood. "that's fine by me, I rather like this tense prince. you were unafraid of taking back what was stolen." wyll smiles, "most men wouldn't have given chase."
jacaerys velaryon & helaena targaryen dancing in episode eight season one of house of the dragon
a small gift for @emilykaldwen (and i'm using one of her coloring psd [hotd color 1])
despite his relaxed stance - the lack of tension on his shoulders and the casual way he hooked his thumbs to his belt - godefrius still watched the boy with a gaze that was both wary and curious. godefrius might not be the best at reading people - he had his own people to do such things, men with keen eyes who could slip into someone's brain - but, so far, he saw no ill intent. brave boy who talked big. even when confronted with the idea of getting kidnapped, he didn't balk. "is that so? that's very nice of you, providing a piece of information to someone who could truly kidnap you." godefrius let his voice turn low with a teasing edge to it. he was still on duty, but it was hard not to get carried away by the banters between them.
godefrius felt his eyes grow wide and he let out another bark of laughter out of surprise. bold, bold boy. the next statement that came out of the boy made a different kind of surprise overtake him. "hells," godefrius blurted out, "surely you're not pulling my leg, are you?" he had seen the king of umoria in passing, but he never truly caught a look of the boy before. it unsettled him, a little itch under his skin, that he didn't know much about other kingdoms aside from what they wanted to be known. godefrius wondered if other kingdoms also had some wayward princes lying around. "well, your highness," godefrius said after recovering from his surprise. he let out a small chuckle and lowered his head into another bow. "i am godefrius dronnelgan, lord commander of the kingsguard of chasque. i offer you my most sincere apology. it was merely a jest and i clearly meant no harm. but," godefrius regarded the boy - wyll - with a considering gaze, a little curious, "as a token of apology, i shall get you a drink." he straightened up to his usual stance. with only the slightest hesitation, he put his hand on wyll's back and gave the boy a gentle prod. "after you, your highness. i know a place suited for a prince." godefrius was still on duty, but considering how the boy might really be a royal, this might as well be an attempt to strengthen inter-kingdom relationships.
"Why pull your leg when I can pull other things?" Wyll replies effortlessly. He'd always been a flirt and burly men like Godefrius were his favorite. Wyll was already breaking his own rules by confessing his true identity to a stranger. If he had wronged this man during his tenure as a thief he could be exposing himself to danger. But he didn't recognize Godefrius, and he would have definitely remembered his face. Having been recently introduced to court he was a stranger to other royals and their entourages. That was something Wyll didn't mind. "Lord commander, hm?" It would pay to have a man with so much authority in his pocket. "You're fine, ser! What sort of jester would I be if I couldn't take a joke?" Wyll grins back at the man as they start toward a tavern. No matter how fleeting, Wyll welcomed Godefrius' touch. He lingered close enough so they walked side by side. That was until a nearly naked bald man came barreling out of the crowd, the very same man Wyll has swiped his disguise from. Thinking quickly Wyll pauses against a wall, pulling Godefrius toward him so he could shield himself from the bald man's line of sight. "Oh, hello. Clumsy me." Wyll chuckles, certain that his quick thinking had saved his ass. His fingers curled into the tunic that Godefrius wore, aware of how large the man was in comparison to his dainty figure.
when the small prince turned out his pockets and the guard walled him in, klogrog knew that he lost this battle. it wasn't one that he was particular adamant on winning though. it's not like someone stole from him. if his boss wanted to be stupid enough to believe wyll, then so be it. the lord probably just didn't want to disrespect the royal family. it made the half-giant scoff a little as he watched the performance. it was just that to him, a performance. he didn't know how the younger man was getting away with this, or where he had even stored the items that he did steal, but he was surely enough not going to think that he was innocent. βin your dreams.β he whispered back lowly, so that only wyll could hear him. then again, coin was coin. he always went wherever the money was. a part of him just didn't know if he wanted to find himself working under the prince. his relationship with the royal families were always tricky. that was simply because of his own thoughts on them.
after exchanging a look with his current boss, klogrog raised his arms in defeat and stepped back. βyou're free to go.β again, for now.
That whisper sent a shiver down his spine. It made every hair on his body stand on end, making him yearn for more of it. "Only in the sweetest of my dreams." Wyll replies with a sweet smile. Having forced Klogrog to endure his mischief, there's no way the half-giant would entertain him now. He takes a step back, satisfied with this turn of events. There was no way that he would be caught. Wyll had been at this for so long that he could convince a king to give up his crown if he was determined enough. " 'Tis a shame that we must part so soon. I was enjoying our time together." He gives Klogrog a pout of those pretty lips. "Promise that you'll seek me out? I don't think I can bare the thought of being apart." He's playing with fire now, throwing salt into the wound.
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Wyll's reaction was sort of amusing. "Just answer it. I ask for a reason, I swear it." It was funny seeing where his line was, and apparently overt violence was it. Though there was some part of Gethin that was happy his son didn't have the cross it. He could defend himself, but he hadn't taken a life. He wished for that to continue, but they didn't always live in that sort of world. He walked along with Wyll, stealing glances at him as they went, measuring his reaction, seeing the planes of his face rearrange to express himself. Wyll didn't hold back. "I am glad that you have at least some sort of code." Gethin respond, his tone joking, teasing.
They stopped by a fruit stall and Gethin paused, watching Wyll. He didn't make any more to stop Wyll, waiting to see what his son would do. He was about to reach out to grab the boy's arm to stop him when the gold was produced and Gethin stopped himself. He took it, turning it in his grip. "No. I want nothing of the sort." Gethin looked at the apple. "When I was young, around my thirteenth summer, I woke up one night to find as assassin at the end of my bed." Gethin looked back at Wyll. "There was a struggle, and I killed him. I was insulted, really. Must have underestimated me, being so young. But my father prepared me to fight." Gethin took a bite of his apple, chewing it. "It was because I was a bastard prince. Son of a witch. I do not want the same fate for you." Gethin swallowed. "And it's also why I do not underestimate you, either." Gethin let his words hang in the air a moment. "That is why I am so...protective, I suppose."
There was some honor among thieves. Wyll had been enlisted before he was even six summers old, and had the rules and ethics of his profession hammered into him. Your life isn't worth a pretty trinket. His old master would tell him time and time again. But defend yourself if you must. Murder was never an option but a possible solution. Wyll had never fancied the idea of taking another life. He pauses, listening intently to Gethin's story. Having no reason to believe that his father would lie, he hangs on every word. If that assassin had been successful, he wouldn't have been born. "You're the son of a witch? You never mentioned that." Wyll softens visibly, touched by Gethin and his protectiveness. "Makes sense. I probably have a big target on my back, and I haven't even realized it." He huffs, "I'm...touched by the sentiment. Don't think that I'm not fond of the idea of you being protective, I'm just not used to kindness. At least when it's given freely."
the more words exchanged, the more godefrius believed that the boy was truly a jester. the things he said were outrageous and blunt and, instead of finding offense, all godefrius could feel was amusement. it had been a good while since he felt the urge to laugh out loud at something someone had said. "but that could be dangerous!" he exclaimed with mock concern. "what if i have an ill intention towards you, hm? this bearded stranger might be looking to snatch you off the streets." perhaps it wasn't wise for godefrius to reply with equally outrageous claims, but he couldn't help it: godefrius truly found the jester - if the boy's claim was correct - entertaining. if all jesters were like this one, godefrius thought, he'd force himself to remain in the castle, in front of the court, longer.
"you, your highness, have an interesting perception of what entails as fun. i never thought that wearing someone else's clothes could be fun." godefrius gave the boy another once-over, gaze settling on the loose arm sleeves and then to the sloppy upper part, before letting out a huff of laughter along with a pointed look. the outfit was definitely not his and was made for someone twice as big as him. godefrius didn't know whose outfit the boy was wearing at the moment, but he sure hoped that he didn't have to come across someone naked crying for their stolen clothes. "godefrius at your mercy, your highness." godefrius offered him a crooked smile, before giving another low bow. "and who might this dazzling prince be?"
What if Godefrius had truly tried to harm him? Wyll had never humored the thought. He was slippery enough to escape even the most iron grasp, and quick enough to vanish. Wyll knew how to use any urban environment to his advantage, to scale buildings and hop across roofs without an ounce of fear. In his old line of work it paid to be quick, quiet, and resourceful. It had been pure luck that Godegrius had managed to catch his arm. Wyll had been annoyed initially, but now welcomed his gruff touch. "If you do kidnap me you'd better have a comfortable bed and plenty of coin. I'm an expensive boy." Godefrius could still have bad intentions, but Wyll was a fan of flirting with danger. If the man did try anything funny a swift kick to the groin would provide him a means of escape.
"You ought to expand your horizons then. Though I would much rather have your clothes on the floor." He playfully nudges Godefrius in the shoulder, waggling his brows at him. Wyll stands up straight, pointing his nose upward before dipping into an elaborate bow. "Prince Wyll Blaiddwyn of Umoria, at your service." He had been announcing his title a lot as of late, surprised by the sudden twist of fate that allowed him to become royalty. "Now are you going to buy me or drink or were you serious about kidnapping me?" Wyll asks with a smirk, happy with either result.
