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Weekly Contest #292
The twenty-four-year-old King stares into the mirror, his eyes narrowing as he looks at himself, wearing Castelon’s colors, navy blue and gold. His eyes flick to the icy sea through the reflected window. Percival remembers a day much like this, the day he became next in line. His eyes bore into the snow ahead as the memory replays. He swallowed and looked at his sister. “Are you sure we should be out here? Patér said this is the worst winter he’s seen.” Princess Gaia smiled at her little brother. “You’re such a worrier, frater. Twelve-...
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