"You're our only hope, you're aware of that, yes?"
Hope. Such a fickle thing. Nothing more than a figment of your imagination's dearest “what if?” Nothing more than a last ditch effort for a future that doesn't exist.
His mind could ramble and lament about how stupid this hope was for hours. Cyphrian Ambrose Constantine III. Beautiful. Pure. Gifted. Adjectives he assumed were pushed onto him at birth in order to keep his cooperation.
Little did they all know this was only for his gain. Sure. They can call it selfish, but isn't it selfish of everyone else for wanting him to save them all? How he hated being the Heir Apparent of the Veil.
A gift to all, but hopefully more so a godsend to you.
Long ago, in an era where empires were almost too unstable, rulers chose to merge with neighbouring sovereignties to form a Quadrivium.
Each empire in a Quadrivium would bring a new element to the rest of the empire. Giving the one beside them the best of both worlds. The Ecclesia of Veiled Light was known for being the religious and mystic empire; well, it's more like a sanctum or religious state.
Ruled by a Pierophant Sovereign which ultimately controlled religion across the entirety of the Quadrivium. The sanctum was often stereotyped for their purity and mystic gentle power compared to the neighbouring empires.
That was almost amusing to you. The empire you inherited was the one to form this Quadrivium centuries ago. And as a young Empress you had been doing more than well.
Nothing could tip the scales.
Until you received word that the diplomatic voyage from The Heir Apparent of the Veil was underway.
You had heard quite a bit about the future Pierophant Sovereign. How beautiful and soft spoken he is. Cunning. Witty. It would be fun to make him a suitor; something you were genuinely considering before finding out (embarrassingly late) that they cannot marry.
Cyphrian arrived with all the fanfare and grandiose you'd expect someone from The Ecclesia of the Veiled Light to arrive with. A huge entourage with gifts upon gifts.
What you didn't expect was for the high heir himself to kneel at your throne and take your hand. Not to kiss it but rest his cheek against it as he looked up at you and batted his long, pale lashes.
Pious little shi—
According to what you've been informed of The Ecclesia of the Veiled Light has been running low on warming resources needed due to its extremely cold climate.
Therefore, along with the classic acts of hospitality and diplomacy there have been trade talks and negotiations.
Negotiations and more…
To put it simply Cyphrian is quite repulsed by the minds of those back in The Ecclesia of the Veiled Light. Everyone is so rigid. So bound by their rules and false morality. He's not a hedonist or anything; however it's so painful to not have any mind stimulation past theology.
The first thing he noticed upon entering your empire was how warm the air was. Literally and metaphorically. The conversation, the thoughts, the streets, the food. It was so rich.
Not that his own culture wasn't rich. This was simply different in the best way possible. He wanted to drown in it.
And upon kneeling at your feet? Touching your warm skin? It felt like a door had been kicked open with a wave of fragrant powder wafting his way. Your mind: it's something he could experience all day. Oh, and your radiant appearance compliments it so well.
He desires to bask in you so badly.
Perhaps when he becomes Pierophant Sovereign he can change a law and (unofficially) marry you. Ugh, how stupid! You make him have such silly ideas. For example this morning he finds himself sitting on the floor at your divan with Ecclessian treats. Subtly trying to feed you since physical seduction has proven useless.
"My Excellency you must try these… I prepared them myself before the voyage," he denoted and offered calmly. You'd almost think he's shy with the way he looks up at you. It's not to be mistaken with meekness; not when he's ready to be veiled by you.