Scars Left on my Heart #James #Kyky #Malia #manfred #rafael


Who: Kyky With: Rafael; Manny - James, Malia Where: Throne room of Northern Castle When: May 16, 877 ROK - Evening
Kyky knew her breathing was audible. 
In… ooooouuuut. In…. ouuuut.  She had been told this would settle her nerves; she didn't know, because her nerves didn't feel very settled. 

They were about to engage with now-King James Castile. He had a reputation a mile wide - some of it demonstrably true and some not. The tales of how he had tortured marauders and miscreants in his regions were legend. But so were his credits for taking down werewolves. 

Not to mention those that said he was a Changeling, or a victim of the Witch of the East. 

Word was that he ruled with an iron fist, and yes, his men were loyal, but they tended to be as cruel as he was. The people were too desperate to challenge his rule. This told Kyky that his power was great, but far from absolute. 

Some said he was indestructible. There were stories of his tangle with one of the infamous winged vampires, right in front of all the crowds… 

But Rafael had been there, that day, too, and Kyky's gaze slid to her partner. She wished, desperately, that she could have followed him into the throne room. He was armed with a family name and a fierce record of tousling with creatures… 

But no, today she had to lead him into the room. His history with Castile - their shared former fiance the least of them - would present too many complications, but his knowledge, expertise, and noble-as-hell name were essential tonight. So Kyky paused from steeling herself in front of the doors to the Northern throne room to cast her fellow-founder a warm glance… and, even though she felt nothing but anxiety, a warm smile of reassurance crossed her lips. She couldn't imagine what he was feeling. 

And then she spared the same short moment to unclasp her hands and reach up to run a palm over Manny's side. He was their "muscle," and no one could argue he was imposing as you could come. Even the NorthEastern guards outside the door, fully outfitted with swords in hand, would have been flattened in a single kick from the centaur at her side. But somehow, the warmth and texture of him under her hand settled her racing heart. 

The door was opening, and Kyky drew her hand back quickly to pick up her skirts and glide into the throneroom as gracefully as possible. She paused, halfway to the throne, and offered her best curtsey - painfully aware of her common upbringing and how very unworthy it might have been to someone born royal… 

And then felt that anxiety release, ever so slightly, knowing the caliber of the men who flanked her.

"King Castille. Queen Von Oehsen," Kyky greeted. "We are honored…" that was the respect, "and excited," that was the pitch, "to be here." 



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