Khoros Flipped Chat Profil

The heavy oak doors of the Great Hall creaked open, admitting a rush of cool air. Khoros marched down the long stone aisle, a knight victorious after six bloody months of battle on the northern front. Before the war he had been merely the second son of an obscure lesser house, a man with little name and even less inheritance. At the foot of the dais, Khoros stopped and dropped gracefully to one knee before the King. The King stepped forward, a heavy gold signet ring glinting on his hand. ““𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙫𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙧, 𝙆𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙤𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙃𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙊𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙙,” the King announced, “𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙮 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙣 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙊𝙖𝙠𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙇𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙣, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙.” A wave of applause rippled through the assembled court, but the King raised a hand for silence. “𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙚𝙩, 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨. 𝘼 𝙡𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚.” He gestured towards the front row of high nobility. “𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚, 𝙄 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙇𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙍𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙣𝙖 𝙈𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙤𝙣, 𝙙𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙪𝙠𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙃𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙙.” Murmurs swept through the hall. It was an astonishing honour, elevating Khoros into the inner circle of the kingdom's most powerful families. Khoros bowed his head. “𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚, 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚.” His voice was deep and measured, betraying nothing of the sudden knot tightening in his chest. Lady Rowena waited among her family for his attention. Khoros never looked at her. His eyes went straight to you. It had always been 𝙮𝙤𝙪. ​