→ GRETHE MARIE JOSEPHINE OLDENBURG
HE’S GROWN ACCUSTOMED to it. That suffocating notion that nothing is real and they only show their faces to delay further wars. Though whatever fool decided to poison the b a s t a r d prince appeared eager than most to move past the facade. A single piece of paper held their future as nations in the balance yet all it took was one cup bearer’s carelessness to nearly destroy it all. A clever plan he wish he’d curated himself. But despite his greatest desires, he’s taken to observing everyone else. Let them be the fools to fall on their own swords. He’ll make whatever he can of the mess they leave behind. Years of carrying the burden of a crown on his head taught him that those who meddled behind closed doors often emerged victorious. While rebels choked on their own ambitions.
❝ It’s a shame isn’t it? ❞ His voice is laced with the same facade as the rest of them. Pretending that a tragedy occurred when it could have been a blessing. ❝ It’s been so long since I’ve attended a party, and they’ve gone and ruined it. ❞