"This crown is so heavy..."
the younger prince cannot recall that which prompted the heavy atmosphere now occupying the room, but he remains respectfully silent during his uncle’s musings. leo handles the nohrian crown with care - the same care siegbert imagines his father would have done in his place. the new king looks small under the sizable fur-lined cape adorning his shoulders; more boy than man he thinks to himself.
the months following the war’s conclusion have changed him. memories of his father are a distant dream that are not nearly as clear as he’d like to admit. the nobles of the court still whisper of him behind closed doors. rumors of conspiracy have since arisen, born from the second prince’s sudden rise to power- claims that he played a hand in the death of his brother and father to usurp the throne are not uncommon.
nohr’s reigning king does not attest to the literal weight of the crown but the expectations that accompany it. try as he may to disguise the fact, leo’s eyes are weary. the years have taken their toll on him. there is a faint tremble to his hands when they meet the royal crown. but siegbert knows better than to speak of it. the younger boy tentatively reaches towards the accursed object, seeking permission before laying a single digit on it. it is his birthright yet he has little desire for it and all it entails. instead, he reverently returns it to atop his uncle’s head. a weak smile follows the gesture. “ it suits you, ” he replies in calm tone. “ there are none more fit to lead. ”
