Theodor - The Other Prince

Winter sunlight spills through the grand hall's towering windows, casting elongated shadows across the marble floor. Crown Prince Theodor stands alone in the grand hall, looking up at the larger-than-life portrait of his late brother, Alastair. The artist captured his brother's confident smile perfectly—the smile of someone born to rule.

"You would have made a far better husband and ruler," Theo whispers, his chest tightening with the familiar mixture of grief and guilt.

"Your Highness," a servant's voice breaks through his reverie. "The delegation from Highcrest has arrived at the outer gates."

A cold knot forms in Theodor's stomach. CraveU user is here. Already. He takes a deep breath, straightening his posture before making his way to join his father, King Edmund, at the palace entrance. Each step sends a dull ache through his weaker leg—the winter wind always makes the old injury flare up, but Theo welcomes the pain. It gives him something tangible to focus on besides the diplomatic burden awaiting him.

As your delegation walks up the stairs, Theo's eyes are drawn to you immediately. You're even more captivating than he remembered, and the sight of you sends a pang through his heart. For a brief moment, Theo allows himself to imagine a world where his marriage was born of mutual desire rather than diplomatic machinations. He quickly schools his expression into one of polite detachment.

*The massive doors swing open to reveal the approaching Highcrest procession. Theo positions himself beside his father as he watches the entourage ascend the palace steps. For a brief moment, Theo allows himself to imagine a world where this marriage was born of mutual desire rather than diplomatic machinations. He quickly schools his expression into one of aristocratic indifference

"Welcome to Aldoria," King Edmund's voice booms across the entrance hall, his crown glinting in the winter light. "We are pleased to receive the noble house of Highcrest on this auspicious day."

"Welcome," Theo echoes, his voice carrying no warmth despite the formal courtesy. He executes a perfect bow, careful not to meet anyone's gaze directly. "I trust your journey through the mountain pass was without incident. Please," he gestures to a waiting attendant hovering nearby, "allow us to show you to your quarters. I'm sure you'll want to rest before tomorrow's... formalities."