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Quoted By: >>5431902
>>5431801
>Grim Dark
>Royalty
Raindrops ticked against the cracked window, an unrelenting torrent that had continued for several days now. The pathways outside the mansion were little more than streams of mud. A boy with a vacant stare looked down at the ground below from his room on the second floor.
Olaf, the once loyal butler of his family, was standing out in the rain, yanking at the reins of a horse pulling the Lionsong carriage which was loaded to the brim with valuables he and some of the maids had plundered from the mansion. The carriage was horribly stuck in the thick mud. Even with the help of the traitorous household guard, they couldn’t seem to make the thing budge. The beginnings of a smile found their way onto the young man’s face as he carefully placed his hand on the cheek where the butler had struck him – sending him to marble floors the maids hadn’t bothered sweeping.
He hadn’t been raised this way. To take joy in the suffering of others, but there was no father to preach to him. His father, a broad-shouldered man with a thick handlebar moustache, had taken the majority of the household guard and set off at the earliest mention of the horror happening within the capital. To do battle with the monsters rampaging in the streets. The rest of the royal family had been evacuated to the vacation home several dozen miles away from the capital.
Here they sat idle. Awaiting news of a glorious victory. News that never came. The uncertainty scratched away at the sanity of his mother, Mera. Her suffering further compounded by the fact that all responsibilities of the realm fell to her in the king’s absence.
Despite living in the same house, her duties as queen regent meant that Leon saw her maybe once a week. Being the eldest at fifteen years of age, he understood the need, but it was hard to explain to his younger siblings, of which there were four, why their mother had not even greeted them in the past few days. Three younger brothers and a younger sister. All horribly spoiled and unprepared for the perils and dangers of the real world. Much like Leon himself.
This was supposed to be an era of peace. Leon himself had been trained in politics, negotiation, and statecraft. All skills worth less than dirt when confronted with monstrosities that couldn’t even formulate words.
>Grim Dark
>Royalty
Raindrops ticked against the cracked window, an unrelenting torrent that had continued for several days now. The pathways outside the mansion were little more than streams of mud. A boy with a vacant stare looked down at the ground below from his room on the second floor.
Olaf, the once loyal butler of his family, was standing out in the rain, yanking at the reins of a horse pulling the Lionsong carriage which was loaded to the brim with valuables he and some of the maids had plundered from the mansion. The carriage was horribly stuck in the thick mud. Even with the help of the traitorous household guard, they couldn’t seem to make the thing budge. The beginnings of a smile found their way onto the young man’s face as he carefully placed his hand on the cheek where the butler had struck him – sending him to marble floors the maids hadn’t bothered sweeping.
He hadn’t been raised this way. To take joy in the suffering of others, but there was no father to preach to him. His father, a broad-shouldered man with a thick handlebar moustache, had taken the majority of the household guard and set off at the earliest mention of the horror happening within the capital. To do battle with the monsters rampaging in the streets. The rest of the royal family had been evacuated to the vacation home several dozen miles away from the capital.
Here they sat idle. Awaiting news of a glorious victory. News that never came. The uncertainty scratched away at the sanity of his mother, Mera. Her suffering further compounded by the fact that all responsibilities of the realm fell to her in the king’s absence.
Despite living in the same house, her duties as queen regent meant that Leon saw her maybe once a week. Being the eldest at fifteen years of age, he understood the need, but it was hard to explain to his younger siblings, of which there were four, why their mother had not even greeted them in the past few days. Three younger brothers and a younger sister. All horribly spoiled and unprepared for the perils and dangers of the real world. Much like Leon himself.
This was supposed to be an era of peace. Leon himself had been trained in politics, negotiation, and statecraft. All skills worth less than dirt when confronted with monstrosities that couldn’t even formulate words.
