#roland 2 seconds off the boat and already creating a potential international incident with athens

[classiqals]

something about the way she smiled sent a fresh wave of frustration through roland, though he could not quite place why. perhaps it was the way she gazed at him - how she knew of him, and he, nothing of her. the woman spoke like she knew things, and roland could count on one hand the last time he felt so confident in his own understanding of such things.

lips curled back into a grimace, charged with growing annoyance, when once again, the unnamed blonde let drop that silly little phrase; and he felt, all at once, rendered yet back to childhood. but before his mind could conjure up some equally fitting moniker to thrust upon the girl, he paled, eyes flashing with a sort of immediate reaction, and one that was not positive. " the fuck are you on about, you nyaff? who is it exactly you think you are, anyway? " the king blurted out, not fully trained even now on proper etiquette that a ruler should maintain, at all times.

oh, shit. princess? oracle? he could not get away quick enough, already inching discreetly to place space between them. " i would give such introduction in return, but apparently, you already know me. " roland muttered, wary eyes trained right back at the oracle. " but it is roland, not kingling. "

nervous. jittery. his hand found the collar of his blouse, and the princess raised an eyebrow up at him — her emerald gaze unwavering. " i do not believe i am. " she said, though unbothered by his defiance of her words. it was not often people liked to hear the things they didn't want to acknowledge. though, at his irritation — zelenia's lips curled into a smirk.

" that is what you are, is it not? you are the youngest, yes? yet you all share a throne. " zelenia mused, words that were fact rather then speculation. it was an odd practice to her, the perplexing monarchy scotland had taken up. " your place as kingling — that is not what bothers you, though. " the oracle took a sip from the glass of wine still in her hands, eyes trained on the king before her. " less political, more . . . otherworldly. " she did not offer a hand, nor a bow, as she introduced herself. " zelenia, princess and oracle of athens. "