Two Bad Bitches and a Bunch Of Fae // Throne of Glass

Backstory Infodump 1 - Mallory meets Dorian

I was thinking about her backstory and wanted to put it on paper. This is how she meets Dorian, so to say, a little snippet of valuable info for the story. And, before she met Dorian and became the advisor, she had a different name. This name is Thalia.

The ride up to Rifthold in that boat had been blisteringly slow. Especially considering that Thalia had had people on her tail: people who wanted her either dead or imprisoned. Sadly, her long-lost father was one of them.

So thus, she'd come up to Rifthold, where she'd recently heard of the crown prince needing an advisor. And what was a position that offered more safety, Thalia had asked herself, than that?

"Visitor?" The guard at the gate asked. Thalia looked up at the palace, wrought in glass and stone, an eyesore if she'd ever seen one, and answered: "Here for a job. Advisor to the prince?"

The guard took one look at her clothing and laughed, but he let her in, which she supposed was a gift in itself. She spared a prayer to whichever cold god still kept his eyes on her. Perhaps Hellas. Perhaps one of the Valg Kings of old. She supposed she deserved that much shit luck.

"Thanks," she muttered. Then, Thalia pulled the hood over her shoulders, and stepped into the palace.

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It took a few minutes for her to reach the entrance, and of course, she had to practically fight her way past a gaggle of ridiculously dressed women. Corsage that seemed tight enough to restrict any air that these women might suck in through obnoxious giggles. Feathers. Oh, gods so many feathers. And, because what would a dress be without this, diamonds.

Jewels adorned their necks, and their ears, and their hands, down from their wrists to their fingers. And they came in every color, enough to make a thief drool, just thinking of the fortune that it could bring him.

"Excuse me, misses," Thalia pushed past the group of women slowly, politely. Yet one still had the cold audacity to gasp. She assumed it was because of her clothes.

"You should be bowing! Do you know who I am?"

"I'm afraid not, Lady."

Another stepped to the front. She was striking, with pitch-black hair and an elegant posture. "Tasten, please leave the poor woman alone."

The other sneered, "We need not a courtier's opinion, Kaltain."

"Miladies, I'll be leaving. I am simply here for a meeting with the prince."

At this, Kaltain's eyes narrowed on her, but she stepped to the side, leaving a way open for Thalia. The woman practically ran through, taking every kindness she could get. And ten minutes later, she'd found the entrance. Guards stood at the door, but they stepped aside as they saw her, likely letting most in to be interviewed for the position of Advisor. 

The room Thalia had been pointed towards was grand, and the prince lounged on a throne that was at the same level in beauty and magnificence as the paintings that adorned the walls. The floor was marble, white as the snow on the peaks of the Staghorn mountains. She could not help but marvel at the beauty of the royal room. 

"So," the prince drawled, "you are here to be my advisor." 

He had a strange demeanor about him, Thalia noticed, very arrogant. He knew what power he held, why he held it, and how to keep it, but there was also something else. There was charm. Enough that the prince could be described as charismatic. 

And charisma and arrogance could either be a very good or very bad combination. 

"Yes, my prince," she replied, curtsying. He narrowed his eyes at her. 

"What talents do you have that would make you suited for this role?" He asked. 

Thalia stood, smiling softly, "I'm good with words. Excellent, in fact, and I am even better with knives."

"I have a captain of the guard already, I do not need more protection," he said. 

"I know, I know. But think about it, I have a quality of a good advisor and knowledge on the battlefield." 

"How?"

"I fought against Adarlan when it conquered my homeland alongside my brother," she replied. The prince stood, walked down the steps from the dais upon which his throne sat. He raised an eyebrow. 

"Why would you then wish to be my advisor?" He asked. 

Thalia's words were not the whole truth, but they were not entirely a lie either. "I'd like to make sure Adarlan's next King is perhaps a better one." 

The prince's eyes flashed downwards, looking at her with a piercing gaze. He seemed to think for a moment before he came to a decision and said, with a grin that slowly grew as he spoke: "My name is Dorian Havilliard. As my advisor, you need not call me 'my prince', any longer."