<span style="font-size: 12px">"Chioni," he repeated.  Whereas her voice had been monotonous and chilly, his held the lilt of a dragon's curiosity.  "Chioni," he murmured, fingers still curling hair between his grasp.  "How... quaint.  You certainly don't look like a Chioni.  Fret not, little fledgling, I'll find you a more suitable name soon."<br/>
<br/>
"Rafaele."  The king's voice was soft and low, and yet it echoed throughout the chamber with a strength and power that none could compare.  It wasn't an oppressive or heavy atmosphere; simply there and solid and constant.  The queen was always trying to get people to remember her, to fear her and respect her.  She demanded it — but the king always received it, no questions asked, no begging necessary, no threats or wails needed.  The air around him was sure and unwavering, while the air around Queen Fane was like that of the air above a flame, always wavering and sparking.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, Father," Raffe said.<br/>
<br/>
"Have you finished?"<br/>
<br/>
Raffe pulled his hand from her hair, the cool air overtaking his once warm fingertips.<br/>
<br/>
"Let your siblings pick their toys."<br/>
<br/>
"Of course, Father," Raffe said, but rather than move from the floor, he simply stepped to the side, no longer blocking the view of the raised throne.  He kept close to Chioni, not because he liked the warmth of her fire, but because he liked that Tyrius couldn't keep his gaze off her neck and couldn't keep the fury of this viewed injustice from emanating from his form.  Raffe snickered softly.<br/>
<br/>
Fourteen princes stepped from the walls, followed by six princesses, all mingling and surveying the goods, each one grabbing one or two people or gold that caught their eyes.  A couple of his young, rowdier siblings were arguing over a dark-skinned girl with sleek, straight hair, but no one dared come near to Chioni.  They stared at her from afar, but as Raffe feigned interest in his nails, no one was interested in questioning her.<br/>
<br/>
"My, my, aren't I a lucky one," he murmured, conscious of who could be listening in.  "Suddenly being fourth prince doesn't seem so bad, wouldn't you say, Chioni?"  He glanced at her with a smirk, and when he caught Tyrius' gaze, Raffe reached out to cup the back of her neck possessively.<br/>
<br/>
</span>