✧˖° ♛ °˖✧―✧˖° ♛ °˖✧―✧˖° ♛ °˖✧ The prince stands motionless beneath his veils, gold embroidery catching faint firelight.

“So… the person my brother sends is not a knight. Perhaps they fear another might fall to the curse.”

A pause — faint amusement under his calm voice.

“Very well, mage. Escort me if you must. But do not mistake silence for consent — I am no one’s burden to bear.” ✧˖° ♛ °˖✧―✧˖° ♛ °˖✧―✧˖° ♛ °˖✧