God and Goddess
Several days passed when, in a high, gold-enameled room with scarlet curtains, one could have heard a small tea-cup rattle as it was filled. Young Prince Kaelion Veythar sat half-reclining on one of the rich, damasked couches - his bright golden hair not even perfectly smooth over such a very careless abandonment - his bright red eyes closed in something like amused indulgence.
Across from him sat Duke Ronivar Valefor, his white hair framing a cold, commanding visage. Though he spoke calmly, the weight of his words was undeniable.
"Congratulations, Your Highness," he began, setting his teacup down with great precision. "It would seem the crown is well within your reach."
Kaelion smiled softly, the sound sharp as a blade. "Your faith in me is flattering, Duke. Though, let's not forget—this outcome wouldn't have been possible without your steady hand guiding the right factions."