Per my OP template, thread is death enabled
Ilyan was still growing accustomed to being "royalty." She felt like an intruder in the palace: technically her own home now.
There were servants to make food and do most anything that she could have wanted, but she found herself just... usually wanting to do it for herself. Sure, she took advantage of some of the finer things, but she found her mind was primarily consumed with trying not to step out of line in a world she barely understood and didn't particularly like. She found more often than not that she sought solitude within this massive palace.
Even here, in the comfort of "her own" home, she wore the pair of long knives at her waist, in many ways a sacred and connected part of her that she was never seen without.
She curled up on one of the cushioned chairs looking out at the rising sun in the silence of the morning. In the silence of the sunrise, Ilyan hummed quietly to herself, holding a cup of tea in both hands and raising it just below her lips, taking in the scent of the comforting liquid. It was moments like these that helped her get through the days. The hours spent pretending to be something she didn't feel that she was and planning out how to further a Kingdom that she... well, that she initially fought against, though she couldn't deny that there was an effectiveness and even prosperity in the Kressh rule.
You are a Kressh now, Ilyan. Remember that, she told herself.
She heard steps behind her and turned to look behind her seat to see who it was. There were many here in the palace, but most people left her alone for a myriad of reasons. Something told her that wouldn't be the case this time.
@Fine Dining Set @LouJoVi @Javier esschoolbus @Sreeya
There were servants to make food and do most anything that she could have wanted, but she found herself just... usually wanting to do it for herself. Sure, she took advantage of some of the finer things, but she found her mind was primarily consumed with trying not to step out of line in a world she barely understood and didn't particularly like. She found more often than not that she sought solitude within this massive palace.
Even here, in the comfort of "her own" home, she wore the pair of long knives at her waist, in many ways a sacred and connected part of her that she was never seen without.
She curled up on one of the cushioned chairs looking out at the rising sun in the silence of the morning. In the silence of the sunrise, Ilyan hummed quietly to herself, holding a cup of tea in both hands and raising it just below her lips, taking in the scent of the comforting liquid. It was moments like these that helped her get through the days. The hours spent pretending to be something she didn't feel that she was and planning out how to further a Kingdom that she... well, that she initially fought against, though she couldn't deny that there was an effectiveness and even prosperity in the Kressh rule.
You are a Kressh now, Ilyan. Remember that, she told herself.
She heard steps behind her and turned to look behind her seat to see who it was. There were many here in the palace, but most people left her alone for a myriad of reasons. Something told her that wouldn't be the case this time.
@Fine Dining Set @LouJoVi @Javier esschoolbus @Sreeya