The Shaytham dynasty is at a crossroads. The royal princes are currently locked in an embittered battle for the right to the throne. [She's condensing...this says nothing about the riots, the employees of both factions falling on hard times, the Lords Council and its intrigue, the peasants rattling their bars for democracy -
She folds her hands together over her stomach, tilting her head back. For a rare instant she looks troubled.]
One of my fellow heads informed us, guided with Rias, that he was in fact the late Levantia Shaytham, fourth son of the king and long believed dead. He asserts he has been concealing his identity all this time as well as his Mark of the Blessed, a holy birthmark of the royal family.
[Her gaze returns to Psyche. Does she understand?]
[ Maybe it's not just the flickers of resemblance to Medea that make it so easy for Psyche to feel — "comfortable" might not be quite the right word for what she is with Waltaquin. Familiar, perhaps? Their worlds really are a surprising amount alike.
Psyche takes that in, watching Waltaquin's expression with a little frown. She's still only a student of these things, but the way Waltaquin talks about them... that's a little like Medea, too. A trail of clues, a look that says "are you following me?" that makes her want to prove that she can keep up. ]
Mm... and you don't believe him. A lost prince appearing out of the blue when everyone is struggling for the throne is like something out of a storybook, isn't it? But... people would like it. It's romantic. [ In the fairy tale sense, anyway. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jasdklas IT'S OK even if you deleted every single notif from me ever......i forigve you
She folds her hands together over her stomach, tilting her head back. For a rare instant she looks troubled.]
One of my fellow heads informed us, guided with Rias, that he was in fact the late Levantia Shaytham, fourth son of the king and long believed dead. He asserts he has been concealing his identity all this time as well as his Mark of the Blessed, a holy birthmark of the royal family.
[Her gaze returns to Psyche. Does she understand?]
no subject
Psyche takes that in, watching Waltaquin's expression with a little frown. She's still only a student of these things, but the way Waltaquin talks about them... that's a little like Medea, too. A trail of clues, a look that says "are you following me?" that makes her want to prove that she can keep up. ]
Mm... and you don't believe him. A lost prince appearing out of the blue when everyone is struggling for the throne is like something out of a storybook, isn't it? But... people would like it. It's romantic. [ In the fairy tale sense, anyway. ]