Ruler of Angels | The Royal Legacies Series

| 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖚 |

𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖚 |𝖓| 𝖆 𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖔𝖇𝖘𝖈𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖎𝖓 𝖜𝖍𝖔 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖜𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖍, 𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖑𝖚𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊, 𝖔𝖗 𝖈𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖇𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖞

Ezel seemed to know what he was doing. The elf was rather calm and collected when throwing ideas around. He didn't fit the part. Of a royal that is.

Later on, when he decided to return to his chambers, Vaeril called the mercenary to talk. It was silent for a while, "I have a feeling you don't like him."

Felimid takes a swig of the ale the king previously poured, "What made you think that?"

Vaeril scoffs, "Every time I looked over to you you had a look of disgust on your face every time he talks, Felimid. I'm not stupid, you know?"

"I never said you were."

The king sighs, "What about him appalls you so?"

"You wouldn't understand."

He sits, "Try me."

"There's just something about him, Vaeril. Honestly, there isn't any personal vengeance behind it, I just don't get the right feeling off of him."

The elf nods, "I see."

"I won't continue in doing so. I trust your judgment, Vaeril."

The king smiles, "I appreciate that."

"He just...doesn't look the part of a royal treasurer."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"It's just," the human sighs, "Most royals have this thing about them."

"Thing?"

"Yes, thing. Like you for example. The second I met you, I knew you were king without previous knowledge of how you looked. You dress royal. You act like royalty. And you act like you're high and mighty."

"I act like I'm high and mighty?"

It goes silent, "Well it's not really a bad thing. You people do it without realizing."

"Us people?"

"Yes?"

Vaeril scoffs, "You make me sound like an immoral man."

Felimid sighs and groans, "That's not what I meant. I was making a comparison."

"Yes. A comparison to me and a butcher."

The mercenary laughs, "A butcher? When did I ever do that?"

"The way you word things, Felimid, makes it sound like you have a vendetta against me."

"I don't!"

"Then why are you getting so defensive?"

"Why are you yelling at me?"

Vaeril grunts and leans back, "This thing. You think we're all the same, don't you?"

"Vaeril. You know I don't mean that..."

"Do I? Or should I just assume you're saying it out of the goodness of your heart?"

Felimid stands there for a moment, "Goodness of my heart? Good lord, Vaeril, what are you even talking about?"

The king stands abruptly, "Are you scared that he'll take your place?"

"We don't even hold the same job."

"Scared he's better than you?"

The mercenary walks forward, "What are you going on about?"

"Think he's better than you? He's more respectable than you and you're afraid of that."