[He makes an approving little hum as Nyx shifts around, letting him get comfortable before settling over his lap rather like a cat himself. It's...strangely nice. It also makes it easy to lower his hands to rest near Nyx's head, not quite petting, but following the curve of his head, skimming over his hair.]
Hostages, then. The boy and the girl.
[One hundred and thirteen kings all named Regis Lucis Caelum seems implausible, to say the least; even the Henrys and Louises of the world only got up to eights and fifteens. Still, a long line of kings. And a great deal of weight, he assumes, riding on the 113th, with the legacies of so many others before him to uphold with his own conduct.]
How did you find out about this Glauca? The truth of his identity.
no subject
Hostages, then. The boy and the girl.
[One hundred and thirteen kings all named Regis Lucis Caelum seems implausible, to say the least; even the Henrys and Louises of the world only got up to eights and fifteens. Still, a long line of kings. And a great deal of weight, he assumes, riding on the 113th, with the legacies of so many others before him to uphold with his own conduct.]
How did you find out about this Glauca? The truth of his identity.