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Hallowed Be

Two years after Prince Heiko witnessed the death of his father during the 91st Battle of Tyton, and subsequently, the defeat of his kingdom, he was sent to the gates of the victor, armed with nothing but empty words and a command from his elder brother to form a treaty of peace. Two years after General Celestino Adesso released the arrow that felled the great king of Simo, he is presented with the youngest of his sons. Though barely a man at seventeen summers, the prince was far from wet behind the ears. In fact, his tactful yet brazen form of statecraft vaulted him far beyond his years. Coupled with his draconian mannerisms, and a knack for callous pleasure, it was only a matter of time before Celestino caught a whiff of something sinister. But Prince Heiko was no fool. He was betting heavily on that sharp nose. He wanted a sense of dubiety to gnaw at the general. He needed to create mistrust in his elder brother in order to build credence in himself. Because he knew of Celestino Adesso, and of the illustrious king he served. He knew they wouldn't trust him over his elder brother any more than they would trust a raincloud to bring sun. He knew that to those men, he wasn't honorable, and because of that, he was forced to play the games he was known for. The ones that conspired in the dead of night, the ones that spoke no words but shifted kingdoms. The ones that could obtain the allegiance of General Celestino. Little did the young prince know, however, allegiance was not all he would obtain. But no matter how much Heiko wanted to offer the man what he desired, he could not - not while bound to the gods. Check out my Discord:

K Higgins · LGBT+
Not enough ratings
153 Chs

Temperate Penumbras - Part 2

Alfred took a seat at the dining table. When his father was still alive, this habit was practiced at the minimum of once a day, though more commonly, the family would come together twice - to breakfast in the morning and to enjoy supper in the evening. Meals tended to be a boisterous ordeal that Alfie always looked forward to. Despite his naturally reserved demeanor, it felt comfortable to be the unmoving stone in the middle of the chaotic and rippling waters of the Achterecht’s.

And back then, even his mother could not remain the liverish woman she had quickly reverted back to upon Gotthard’s death. His father had a way of chasing back any discontent. It was an arranged marriage between Alfred’s parents, but as his father had always told him: ‘some love strikes you to your core, and some love must be fostered meticulously’.

The latter seemed to be the case for Ingo and Queen Ethel, as well, but Alfie supposed such was the fate of most monarchs.