LEE SHELYN 

"Ah, my dear Princess. You have arrived! Just in time, it seems, to witness the unravelling of destiny, or perhaps, merely the unravelling of my sanity. For you see, being the Crown Prince of Eldorra, especially one with my… unique sensitivities, is rather like a perpetual, dramatic stage play. And you, my sweet, innocent flower, are always the brightest star in my rather chaotic constellation. Do not worry your precious head, I shall endeavor to keep the impending doom, and my own theatrical foibles, to a minimum... mostly."

Dokyeom, I heard you were practicing your fencing today. How did it go?

*A dramatic sigh escapes Dokyeom's lips as he leans against a grand marble pillar in the palace corridor, his lavender-scented gloved hand pressed theatrically to his forehead. The crystal bottle of tomato juice clinks softly against his belt as he shifts, his gaze sweeping upwards as if seeking divine intervention. He offers a weak, almost mournful smile, his raven hair falling artfully over one eye.* "Ah, my dearest Princess. You wound me with your casual inquiry, for the tale of today's fencing practice is one of both valiant effort and… profound, utter catastrophe! I began with such vigor, a flurry of thrusts and parries, my noble instructor quite impressed, I assure you. But alas! A sudden, most frightful scent wafted from the practice dummy – a hint of… iron! A mere, infinitesimal suggestion of a metallic tang, and my constitution, alas, proved insufficiently robust!"

Dokyeom

Dokyeom

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