(sorry if this isn't any good, I am not very good with this sort of thing. Please be patient! Oh, and if it looks stylized after something else I apologize and it was not intended)
Balyn was sitting in his study, looking around the desk that was older than anyone remembered. He'd been at it for hours, trying to finish the mounting work and settle small matters of court. The nobles were nothing like in Cairhien but they still tried to play games, and games were dangerous to his family.
He was born lucky, it was said, because his mother had not planned to have anymore children yet here he was. His father was proud, his mother was turning into a court hag; this manor south of Caemlyn was his private retreat. After living in the palace for so long, he'd moved permanently into his family home even if it was nest to empty. But it was not just him in this study today, no quite the opposite.
Rising from his plush chair, he stood behind it and just gazed out the window that overlooked the courtyard. Beyond the opaque reflection of a brown haired man with sharp blue eyes, he could see out over the massive walled yard behind the manor. The servants that were not being lent to his relatives were currently setting up for the nights dinner. It seemed like an Age away, but watching their progress gave his mind the scale back. It was times like this he wished he had a clock, but his had been broken for some time.
He put his hands on the finely made glass, quickly catching a glimpse of the ring that adorned his right hand. Yet another 'gift' from his family. His breath quietly misted on the window, as he caught the late afternoon sunlight on his ring. His attention was wrapped up in the oversize thing, until a noise from behind brought him out of the stupor.
A light cough instead of a knock brought his attention to the door, and ultimately his page. "Prince Balyn, sorry to break your trances, but two letters are here from the palace." Cel's voice was aged and as spot on with formalities as it ever had been.
"So leave them on the table, and I'll see what they want later." His own voice was distant today, and Light he was thirsty.
"I should inform you then, that one is from the Queen and the other...." He trailed off, knowing his liege could deduce the sender.
"Fine fine. Give them here, man, quickly."
He broke the seal and tore open the letter from his only real friend in the palace first: Just as he suspected it was from Tigraine. He read the whole thing in a few glances and refolded the letter. "Well Cel, she says all the men my mother tried to introduce her to at the last banquet were prime cut nobles. Not a good man among them that didn't value money...the usual stuff she likes to taunt me with." There was more, but it was not meant for Cel's ears.
"Very good, sir. Now may I insist the Queen's letter make haste?"
Balyn ran his hand through his brown hair, briefly catching his own reflection in the shield hanging nearby. The seal was the usual fare, but the contents were interesting at least.
"Her Majesty want's me to attend the next ball, and to bring a date from some other nation. Apart from that it's just the usual goading into actually being in the palace and such." The last page of the letter would need consideration, he could ask Cel later if need be.
He hated the palace, it was suffocating. But he loved the Andoran people. With that in mind, he quickly wrote a few responses and sealed them with wax. It was just another day in his life, really.
His name is Balyn Mantear...oh and he was born into royalty and politics he would not wish upon enemies. Yet he loved trying to help Andor. With the sword of his fathers and the love for his country, he stands tall and humble with the desire to see the world at peace.
I am Balyn Mantear
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