‘ i bite my tongue and torch my dreams. ’
He was more of a pyre than he was a man.
Vladimir had seen it all before, men whom burnt their desires and ambitions for the sake of duty and ideals. How the people loved that, how they became enamored with the image of a selfless martyr, yet so easily overlooked the man beneath the crown. The crowd loved a man without knowing his heart; it was almost poetic in a way.
The vampire’s pale gaze bore at Jarvan’s, absent of animosity; he was an outcast in Noxus, a Noxian in name and nothing more. He didn’t bother with petty things like allegiances.
“Oh, but you are wise to, princeling. “
He turns away, directing his gaze at the party around them. Why, it wasn’t any different from home; Gossiping bureaucrats and cutthroat nobility, grasping around for power--stupid games, really.
Vladimir brings his wineglass to his lips, indulging in the moment of silence between them before he speaks.
“The people will follow a monarch, they have no need for a human being. “