Estoria; a kingdom filled with happiness and greenery, and kind townsfolk. The castle stood tall in the heart of it all on their small island, glittering beautifully above the horizon. The streets smelt of fresh air, baked goods, and the flowers that hung from window sills. Banners and signs were hung everywhere in celebration of the kingβs birthday. The soles of the kingβs shoes pressed against the tile with each step, his fur lined cloak billowing behind him in the fresh summer air.
His dark locks fell over his lidded eyes, a smile threatening his lips. He watched as children played, braided one anotherβs hair. It reminded him of his adolescent years, growing up with three sisters and a brother. All wed now. Nicholas, while he never asked for the responsibility of a kingdom, still loved Estoria. From the music, to the culture, the foods, the celebrations. Yearly, on the week his birthday landed on, would be celebrated in itβs entirety.
A tradition long standing from his ancestors when they had been alive and well.
Nicholas admired the murals made in his name, the artwork created in celebration of him. It felt overwhelming some times, however, it made his work feel appreciated. It was home, a place he felt the safest. In the midst of crowds, the music surrounding him, the sweet smell of candles burning and the bakery creating goods for the customers. He didnβt realize his blonde guard, Vash, was pulling him to dance with a crowd.
He didnβt realize until he was struggling not to step all over his friendβs feet. βDamn it, blondie.β He hissed out to his royal guard, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment. Before he was able to slip away and not stumble over otherβs feet, partners were being switch. The feeling of their gentle skin holding him close as they danced and spun with him, he almost stood frozen, enveloped with their graceful movements. Their sheer beauty.
His breath hitched in his throat, and Nicholas felt himself feeling vulnerable beneath their gaze. Heaven above, they were an angel.