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Fantasy 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭, 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠.

aeneas .

𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘵.
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ignatius sinclair.

the throne room.

mentioned cassius & nathair.

Umbra felt especially cold at dawn. The winds and the sun rose hand-in-hand towards the ashen castle in the mountains, providing both the light to a new day and chills to all who was awake at such an ungodly hour. Unfortunately for prince Ignatius, walking the corridors of the Umbran castle first thing in the morning had been part of his new rigorous routine. He was the heir to the throne, carrying the world on his shoulders ever since his father called him to his quarters to talk about the future of the kingdom. And after a somber talk with his bedridden father, Ignatius had found himself in preparations for his coronation set for the incoming weeks. Which now left him to force down his shivers as he tried to get used to waking up at the crack of dawn to begin his princely duties.

His royal advisor, Fredrick, had informed him the moment he left his chambers that his sister Anastasia requested his presence in the throne room. It was peculiar news for a couple of reasons. One of which being that Anastasia never requested, she demanded, and another being the fact that Anastasia was normally on one of her hunts at dawn. For her to request his arrival at the throne room first thing in the morning— before breakfast even, concerned him. Just a little bit. It had only been the night before that his coronation was announced to the rest of his siblings and that was more than enough time for Anastasia to sense a threat of danger towards her family. It had been her sixth sense to perceive the worst before it arrived. And it peaked both his curiosity and worry that her request for his appearance was in correlation to his impending kingship.

So the request from his sister left him briskly walking (definitely not running— princes don't run in the corridors) towards the throne room. Passing by suits of armor, lovely portraits of his family and the ancestors before him, and swiftly greeting the servants who crossed his path. The castle was gaudy, to say the least, far more spacious than needed for his family and staff but that was what made the kingdom of Umbra the empire it was today. Grand. Lavish. Powerful. But also a pain to walk through with the number of twists and turns the castle held. Luckily, the throne room was placed to be the center of it all, and Ignatius knew the castle like the back of his hand; secret rooms, passages, and all.

By the time Ignatius arrived at the large oak doors which held the throne room behind, Ignatius fixed his black garments and released a sigh. It was only his sister. Anastasia understood his position the most out of his other siblings. The two were a year apart in age and shared more in common than their darling sister Eve, brooding brother Dominic, or shy flower Violette. They both understood the harsh responsibilities Ignatius had to face as the eldest son and next in line for the throne and the sacrifices his duties held. He just hoped to whatever deity looking down on him that she wasn't forced to give him another task. She was commanding general of Umbra's battalion after all, and the position left little to no room for her to think about the mental wellbeing of her older brother above her responsibilities for the kingdom.

"I already have an day's worth of itinerary, what is one more to the list?"

When he pushed open the doors he was greeted by his sister in her suit of armor standing patiently in the center of the room. Trying to read the expression on her face was difficult as Anastasia rarely showed any weakness. But the way she spared a small smile for her older brother's entrance at least showed that she didn't come bearing bad news. "Ignatius." The light tone in her voice made the prince visibly unstiffen. "I apologize for this request on such short notice but I wanted to be the one to tell you."

Ignatius went back to his stiff posture as he walked to stand in front of her.
"Should I be worried?"

"Depends on how you see it."

"Worried it is."

Instead of laughing at Ignatius' attempt at a joke (he was never the best at telling jokes sober) Anastasia went back to business. "Your coronation is in preparation and all our allies are beyond excited. Father had sent out the news to them before he even shared it with us." There was a hint of bitterness at the end of her sentence. Maintaining connections with their kingdom's allies was a good thing of course. Yet Ignatius found himself feeling nauseous at the idea of the neighboring kingdoms knowing before his own siblings knew. "I'm worried that with the news becoming public at such a quick rate, there would be people who'd wish to harm you."

Ignatius frowned, slowly understanding where she was going.
"I can take care of myself."

"I know you can but I want to be sure." The look she gave him left him no room to speak. "I am giving you a personal guard. He's new, son of noblemen who sent him to Umbra. From evaluation, he has shown to be promising."

"Why does it sound like you're selling him to me?"

"Because he'll be stuck with you indefinitely." Ignatius wanted to march back to his chambers and scream into his fluffy pillows. When Anastasia made a decision, it was final. There was no way in hell that Ignatius could convince her otherwise. "And another thing," The prince could only groan. "In honor of your royal highness' coronation, father has invited a bard to stay in the castle. He is our guest and father wishes for you to be his babysitter. Says it will develop your qualities as king." From the glint in his sister's eyes, she was enjoying his torment.

Ignatius tried not to grit his teeth. First, he was given his own babysitter and now he was ordered to be a babysitter himself. This was not how he wanted to spend his morning. Nor his life for that matter.
"Fine. Where will I find them?"

"Courtyard. They'll be joining you for breakfast there."

Without saying goodbye to his sister (Ignatius was too petty for that), he swiftly exited the throne room and briskly walked towards the courtyard. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his gut.

Like this was only the start to something different. And Ignatius didn't know how to feel about it.

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me? rebranding on rpn? i would never!


The song Cassius played was light, the music sounding hazy in the air, as he strummed almost absentmindedly at his lyre. He was seated in the courtyard, with some other man--a man who was, frankly, unimportant to him, because he was after bigger fish at the moment. Usually it wouldn't take any more than a pretty face for Cass to chase, and this man certainly fit that requirement. But when you were planning to chase a prince, suddenly those things became much less important.

So Cassius wasn't playing to impress, not at the moment; He was playing because he was--as he was often--bored. There was no strong melody to the tune he played, and his voice came out as a soft hum without any theatrics. It was a song he had been working on lately, noodling to the best of his abilities. A song about his father, like most songs seemed to be when he played them long enough. Only this one was far more raw with the lyrics, so he supposed it was one he would never play for the stage. Even now, he was humming instead of singing, afraid of even this one man hearing what he thought.

After a moment longer, his humming died out, and he played one final chord before tucking the lyre back into his pack. This was no time to be thinking about such sad things, after all; He had bigger things that he was after, and couldn't allow himself to get bogged down by thoughts. He leaned back slightly, using his hands to prop himself up on the bench that he was seated upon.

Well, he supposed, using a cheap plaything for the time being wouldn't be the death of him.

Looking over at the man seated in the courtyard with him, Cass let his smile shine through, tilting his head to the side as he gazed upon the other. Yes, certainly easy on the eyes, and, he thought, maybe a good consolation prize if things with the prince didn't work out for him. Not that anything would work out for very long with anyone; Cassius was born for the road, as he liked to say in a somber tone to his lovers when he left them behind.

(It was far better than explaining why he actually couldn't stay, thoughts he didn't want to even let into his mind right now.)

Crossing his legs, Cass let his hands settle on his knees and widened his smile.
"Waiting for the prince as well, aye?"
he asked. He supposed that title was going to change soon, and maybe it was even presumptuous for him to call him anything other than the crown prince. But Cassius never had too much respect for authority--not that he didn't know how to turn it on when necessary.

He looked away for a moment, at the rest of the sights in the courtyard.
"And what gives us the pleasure of waiting together, hm?"
He could tell that the man was a guard of some kind, certainly, but was unsure why exactly he would be waiting here, though he could make some guesses.

Before he could converse with the other for too long, he heard footsteps behind him, and looked over his shoulder to find the crown prince himself. Cass schooled his smile into a passive one and rose from his seat, stepping over to the prince and kneeling down in front of him.
"Your highness,"
he said,
"thank you for giving me the pleasure of meeting you. I do hope we'll get along well, in our time together."

Then he was taking the prince's hand and kissing lightly on his knuckles.
"You truly are the crown jewel of the heavens, just as they say,"
he said against his hand, before letting it go and rising to his feet. Certainly a cheeky move, but Cassius thought it fit him.


hippo campus

♡coded by uxie♡


We are going to trust the giant flying sharks?

  • Courtyard


    Three Days Grace

    These days, knowing more makes you more miserable.


9 minutes ago

nine lives


aeneas .

𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘵.
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)

ignatius sinclair.

the courtyard.

Ignatius spent the walk to the courtyard practicing his smiles for when he had to inevitably do his crowned princely duties and pretend to be accommodating. Luckily, he's been feigning politeness towards dukes, duchesses, kings, and other nobility since he knew how to walk. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the presence of others. Quite the contrary, the highlights of the balls he'd attend would be talking to the other young royals and wasting the night away engaging in chitchat with a chalice of wine in his hand. What Ignatius didn't like was surprises. And being sent to meet both his personal guard (who he didn't need nor ask for) and act as a gracious host out of nowhere for a guest was the epitome of the term "surprise".

He imagined both people to be just like the other guests he's been forced to spend time with throughout his life. Pompous and full of themselves; his fate was destined to be full of conversations that revolved around no one but his guest. Anastasia had mentioned his guard came from nobility which meant he was probably as arrogant as the bard his father invited was bound to be. It was already terrible enough that he was going to feel like he was made of glass with his own knight watching over his every move, yet his father still wanted to add another job for him to do with this bard. He had four other siblings who were fully capable of being pleasant with their guest until his coronation. Genevieve was the socialite out of the Sinclair siblings, charming all who met her with her charm and natural confidence. But here Ignatius was, entering the castle's courtyard and locking eyes with his fate.

It was showtime.

The prince kept the smile on his lips pleasant and charming, the outside world knew him to be the poster boy of perfection and Ignatius wanted to keep it that way. It seemed that the two had been engaging in conversation before his arrival but Ignatius could care less about the topic. He didn't come to make friends, he came to be what everyone expected him to be. So when the man he assumed to be the bard approached him for a greeting, Ignatius forced his smile to grow.
"Please, the pleasure is all mine."
Lying and acting came easy to Ignatius, as a Sinclair, they were basically a part of his genetic code. Yet for the first time in a long time, he faltered when the bard took in his hand to grace a kiss at his knuckles. Never in his life did that ever happen to him.

Gestures like so were left for his sisters, he and his brother were normally honored with bows and curtsies. It was a new experience and it took a split second for Ignatius to shift back to his polite exterior image.
"You flatter me. I just hope to be all you expect of me as we spend time together and I hope to catch your name."
Instead of focusing on the feeling the bard left on his hand (and how he should be reacting to it) he glanced over to the other man.

Ah yes. His babysitter. He forced himself to turn his narrowed eyes into a gracious nod at the man. There would come a time and place to bicker about his independence, but in front of his guest was not that time.
"Thank you. I am sure my sister chose you for a reason."
Short and simple. Much more suitable than 'I don't need you to secure anything, I am not a damsel in parrel.'

Brushing ill thoughts away, Ignatius took the chance to bow in front of the two men. He learned proper etiquette since he was a boy, everything was but routine and muscle memory at this point.
"I'm know you both know my name by now but I like to see myself as a gentleman."
Ignatius added a light laugh, one he's mastered to a tee to properly sell his openness to the two.
"I'm crowned prince Ignatius Sinclair of Umbra. Although I suppose I won't be a 'prince' for so long."
When he regained his usual, perfectly postured stance he made eye contact with the bard and the soldier, charming smile still gracing his aristocratic face.
"It's my utmost pleasure to have you visiting Umbra."
He looked to the bard.
"And to have your service."
He looked to the soldier.

"If you both are hungry, we could dine together here. My staff have prepared us a meal and while we eat, we could perhaps get to know each other better."
Ignatius only hoped to be mentally prepared for where banter would go with the two men. Looking to his guest of honor he said,
"And after we can go wherever you'd like to go."
He only hoped his attempts to be hospitable wouldn't be a mistake.

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