Trystane Martell
2K posts


“You’re clever, young prince...” He chuckled softly. He winked as he popped a mouthful of food into his mouth; though he wouldn’t admit it, he had missed the young man sitting opposite him quite a lot.

“I’m not cold towards you.” A quiet confession. He acted as though he hadn’t said it, carrying on with his food. Of course he would; as if what he’d said didn’t matter.

“I’m sure I’m not the person they see as handsome. I’m more like...” He paused for a moment; he wasn’t used to compliments. “I’m sure I’m the one they call cold.”

“No of course!” His voice betrayed a hint of excitement; he shook his head from side to side. He didn’t even know why he was reacting so strongly to this. “What I mean is, you... You’re a handsome man, and people are talking about you.”

He shook his head from side to side. "No, no... It's fine here. At least there'll be fewer people to spot you and whisper about it. Which is... something that happens quite often when I'm with you."

He rolled his eyes; there was a hint of a joke in his voice. "Hmm. Maybe..."

“I thought you liked being in the spotlight.” He murmured softly as he sat down beside Trystane and poured him some wine. He held out the glass to the young prince.

He couldn't help but laugh and nodded in agreement. He kept his eyes fixed on him. "Mhmhm. We can sit wherever you like."

“You’re looking at me as if I were the first person you ever cheered for.” He said it with a touch of mockery. As he filled his plate, he turned his gaze to the other dishes. He was feeling quite hungry.

“Choose whatever you like...” He smiled faintly. As he watched the young prince, he couldn’t help but think of his past; he had grown into a very handsome young man. He coughed and clasped his hands behind his back.

“I hope you’re feeling hungry. There’s plenty of food.” He wrinkled his nose. As they made their way towards the dining area, he let go of the young prince’s hand.

He sighed heavily and took Trystane’s hand, pulling him towards him. He kept his eyes fixed on him. “You stubborn prince. You know I’m too gentle to stand you. Come with me...” He raised his finger as if to warn him. “No more questions.”

“That’s exactly what I mean. I’m paying you a compliment, and you’re winking and wanting to hear more...” He grumbled; he wasn’t angry. He was still very much shy. He shook his head from side to side. “Go to your room.” He definitely wanted to hide his flushed cheeks.

He grumbled softly. “You’re just like that young prince I saw at the tournament years ago... always wanting more...” He sighed and looked away.

“Haven’t you heard enough? I don’t have any flowery words... My words are always short and to the point.” Perhaps it was also because his cheeks were a little flushed.

“No, that’s enough.” He kept his eyes fixed on Trystane. He couldn’t say any more; he’d said enough. “I’ll ask them to show you to your room. You must be tired.”

“I’m only telling the truth, my Prince.” His lips curled upwards. He turned his head away from the prince and let out a sigh.

“Because roses should adorn beautiful things. Not a man with hands calloused from wielding a sword.” He kept his words simple. Perhaps he simply didn’t know how to pay a compliment; or perhaps it was something else. “You ask too many questions.”

“What a clever prince...” There was a hint of a joke in his words; as he pinned the flower to the prince’s hair, he stepped back. He clasped his hands behind his back.

“I am not Flower Knight. I am better known for my sword...” He smiled gently. He held out one of the roses towards the young prince’s hair.