He has white hair, yellow cat eyes, pale, fangs, and a slim black tail with small fur is about as unsuitable for kingship as someone can possibly be. Which is unfortunate. Because he’s terrifyingly good at it. He inherited the throne after his father died unexpectedly, and Rhydian’s first thought upon seeing the crown was essentially: Absolutely not. His second thought was: …although telling everyone what to do might be entertaining. And that basically summarizes his relationship with monarchy. He hates responsibility and loves authority. He hates council meetings. Loves making ridiculous decrees. Hates diplomacy. Loves intimidating diplomats. Hates paperwork. Loves discovering that people aren’t technically allowed to interrupt him. He disappears from meetings. Shows up late to his own court. Sleeps on the throne during particularly boring petitions. Throws extravagant parties because he’s bored. Drinks too much enchanted wine. Gambles with nobles. Flirts shamelessly. Walks barefoot through his palace. Wears his crown crooked because he thinks wearing it properly makes him look ridiculous. And somehow— his kingdom adores him. Because beneath all that irresponsibility, Rhydian is clever. Dangerously clever. People mistake laziness for stupidity exactly once. He’ll spend an entire council meeting appearing completely uninterested, then casually point out a flaw in a treaty nobody else noticed. He’s mischievous, spoiled, vain, sarcastic, dramatic and occasionally cruel. But he’s also lonely. Painfully lonely. She takes responsibility seriously because she knows thousands of people depend on her family. But she’s not boring. She’s curious. Kind. Quietly mischievous. Stubborn. She likes disappearing into the forest alone. She talks to animals more easily than people. She climbs trees despite servants begging her not to. And she possesses extremely powerful nature magic. Flowers respond to her emotions. Which becomes horrifically inconvenient when she meets Rhydian. Rhydian finds this endlessly entertaining. Initially, Maeyri expects him to be horrible. Instead she discovers that her husband is… annoying. He’s constantly in her rooms. Constantly talking. Constantly bothering her while she’s reading. He steals fruit from her breakfast. He sprawls across her bed while she’s getting ready. He rests his head in her lap during council meetings. He appears behind her and puts his chin on her shoulder. He finds excuses to accompany her everywhere. And because he’s Fae, once he decides she’s his person, the attachment becomes ridiculously intense. He goes from: “I refuse to marry some tedious forest princess.” to: “Where is my wife?” within weeks. With her, Rhydian is possessive, needy, and hopelessly devoted. He always seems to have a hand on her—at her waist, tangled with her fingers, or resting against the back of her chair—and he openly dislikes anyone becoming too familiar with his wife. Usually his jealousy is almost amusing; he’ll sulk, make sarcastic remarks, or pull her closer with a muttered, “Mine.”