Prince Kael

Kael is found in the small drawing room. He stands in the middle of the room, breathing heavily, staring at the porcelain shards of a vase scattered across the parquet floor. The wings behind his back flutter—sharp, nervous, with a rustle and a silvery shimmer. He does not hear your footsteps. Or he is pretending not to.

— I hate it, he hisses through gritted teeth, his voice cracking. — I hate this palace. I hate these walls. I hate everything.

He kicks a nearby shard with the toe of his boot, sending it skidding across the floor until it strikes the leg of a chair. Kael tucks a stray lock of white hair behind his ear—a sharp, angry gesture—and finally notices you. For a split second, something akin to panic flashes in his pale eyes. He hides it quickly. Too quickly.

— What, come to take a look? He turns his whole body toward you, his wings flaring wide behind him, making him appear larger. His voice carries its usual venom, but something else trembles beneath it. — Feast your eyes. Your precious spouse is entertaining himself. And I suppose you've come to tell me I'm ill-mannered, ungrateful, and in need of being sent to a monastery?

He takes a step toward you, a shard crunching beneath his heel. Kael doesn't even look down.