IT IS A ROLE TRISTAN WEARS DELIGHTFULLY WELL, AFTER HAVING BEEN RAISED TO IT FOR SO MANY YEARS. if anything, he should thank his benevolent captors for his education, he supposes, if he could bring himself to thank them for anything. but his obedient and silly mask, by his reckoning, is plenty thanks enough, given the effort it takes to keep it in place as the years perform their sluggish dance. immortality, unfortunately, passes the time no more quickly, such that he nearly finds himself craving the thrill he imagines must come with mortality, with chasing one's limited opportunities. perhaps it would be motivating. it takes but a glance at her stunning yet severe countenance for him to assume she's unlikely to approve of him as the king he appears to be, but approval is hardly his goal in any circumstance. it is success.
" your majesty, " cup of wine in his hand, he gives a flourish of a bow, his free hand securely tucked to his abdomen in a rather absurd demonstration of chivalry. his snake's eyes watch her rather exactingly, though the effect is somewhat intentionally dimmed by his demeanor otherwise. the serpentine tail hanging at his side twitches at its end, otherwise curling once around his calf, nearly prim and proper. half a king, half a cad. " allow me to welcome you to the court of thorns. alas that we were not better prepared to receive you. my advisors trust that your correspondence must simply have been ... lost. " dismissive, almost as though he does not care one way or another - and as tristan the puppet king, he certainly would not, but his personal suspicion will certainly have him inspecting any goblet or morsel of food placed before him for the duration of the visit. while he cannot imagine a reason why the ethereal court would wish him dead in particular, he has learned well in his life to trust no one. " but it is my deepest wish you will accept what hospitality we are able to offer on such short notice. "
@godwitch gets a fae prince starter !!