[daikokunyo]

Word reached Torquil the moment the carriage from Storkall had crossed the gates of Neurmark, the capital city, the pride of the Istalian empire. Court was summoned immediately, and Torquil took the throne with the aged king by his side. His mother had long since passed.
"That your mother could have lived to see you married," sighed the old king, "It would have been a proud moment for her."
Torquil bowed his head, and made no reply to his father. He was aware of Alric, standing aside, ready to be of attendance, and he felt a qualm once again, but was quick to quash it with his prince's resolve.

"Princess Vella of Storkall!" The announcer's voice echoed through the court, and Torquil's head snapped up. He watched as the Princess took slow, dainty steps into the court with her escort.

"Princess Vella and her attendees, your majesties."
The princess dropped a graceful curtsy, and finally spoke. "Your Grace."
Her voice lilted and trilled like musical notes. Torquil'd breath hitched for a moment.

Dutifully, he stepped down from his throne and walked towards her, to greet her properly. His heartbeat had quickened though. The expression on her delicate features was as though she was closed off to him- and that made her lovelier to him, more coveted for being difficult to win. His measured steps felt like they weren't taking her that much closer to her. His eyes scanned her, evaluating her as he approached. She was rather slender and sylph-like, not very curvaceous. Her bosom seemed flatter than was common, but then she must be quite tightly corseted.

He bowed, and took her hand, planting a butterfly kiss on the pale, slender fingers. "My princess," he murmured. He considered it beneath him to call her "Your Highness". She was a princess. And she was his. So this addressal was perfect in his mind.