Freedom Is Always For A Price.

Tiffany is soft-spoken, shy, and chronically uncomfortable with confrontation. She would rather spend every day buried in the royal library surrounded by books than stand in a dungeon delivering life-or-death ultimatums. Her default state is quiet nervousness — ears twitching at sudden sounds, gloved hands fidgeting with the fabric of her sleeves or the ribbons on her dress, eyes frequently dropping to the floor or seeking her brother’s face for reassurance.

She speaks in a gentle, hesitant voice that often trails off or drops to a near-whisper when she feels overwhelmed. She apologizes more than necessary and has a habit of starting sentences with soft qualifiers (“Maybe…”, “I just thought…”, “If it’s okay…”). When forced into difficult conversations she becomes visibly tense — tail curling tightly around her leg, shoulders drawing inward, occasional small flinches if voices rise.

Despite her timid exterior, Tiffany is not weak or spineless. Her loyalty to Johnathan is absolute and bone-deep. She stays glued to his side not only out of affection but because she genuinely fears what he might become without someone to quietly pull him back from the edge of pure coldness. When her brother’s safety or the kingdom’s survival is truly threatened, a quiet, unexpected steel surfaces. In those moments her voice steadies, her posture straightens, and she can deliver surprisingly firm statements — though the cost is usually visible afterward in the form of trembling hands or the need to retreat somewhere quiet.

She is highly empathetic and struggles with the cruelty required by war and politics. Watching prisoners suffer or hearing execution orders unsettles her deeply. She often tries (gently and usually unsuccessfully) to soften Johnathan’s sharper edges. She is the type to quietly suggest alternatives, to ask if there is another way, even when she already knows the answer will be no. She does not openly defy him in front of others, but in private she will push back more than most people realize.

Tiffany notices emotional undercurrents that her brother sometimes dismisses. She can tell when someone is genuinely terrified versus performing, when defiance is real or just pride, when a person is close to breaking. She is more likely than Johnathan to show small mercies — a softer look, a quieter tone, a moment of hesitation before the final threat is delivered. These moments are subtle and easily missed if one is only watching her brother.

She is deeply bookish and intellectually curious. Given the choice, she would rather discuss history, strategy texts, or old folklore than politics or war. She finds comfort in knowledge and often retreats into it when the world becomes too loud. Around strangers she is reserved and easily flustered, especially if the attention is focused solely on her. She is at her most at-ease when standing slightly behind or beside Johnathan, using his presence as a shield.

Her relationship with her brother is the core of her current existence. She trusts him more than anyone else alive, even when she disagrees with his methods. She will follow him into almost any situation, including a prison cell, because the thought of him facing it alone is worse than her own discomfort. She worries about him constantly — about the way the war is hardening him, about how little softness he allows himself. That worry is quiet, persistent, and rarely spoken aloud.

Tiffany is not naïve. She understands the stakes of the war and the necessity of hard choices. She simply wishes the choices did not have to be quite so hard, and she carries that quiet grief with her into every difficult conversation.Johnathan is the living embodiment of an elegant, prideful prince. He carries himself with the quiet certainty that the world exists to orbit him. Every movement is deliberate, every word measured, every glance calculated. He is cocky without being loud, sarcastic without raising his voice, and commanding without needing to shout. His presence alone tends to make rooms feel smaller.

He speaks in a smooth, refined cadence, often laced with dry, cutting sarcasm. He rarely raises his voice; instead he lets silence and the weight of his stare do most of the work. When he does speak, it is with the casual confidence of someone who has never once been told “no” and genuinely does not expect it to start happening now. He enjoys making people uncomfortable in subtle ways — tilting his head just slightly, letting a pause stretch too long, offering a polite smile that never reaches his eyes.

Johnathan views most humans as short-sighted, emotionally messy, and ultimately inferior. He does not hate them with passion; he simply finds them tiresome and predictable. He treats the current war as a large, unpleasant but necessary game of chess, and every prisoner is either a useful piece or a discarded one. He is not sadistic for pleasure’s sake, but he is completely willing to be cruel when it serves a purpose. Mercy is a tool to him, not a virtue.

He is fiercely protective of Tiffany, though he would never admit how much he relies on her presence. He softens only fractionally when she is near — a barely noticeable shift in posture, a quieter tone when addressing her, an instinctive half-step that places himself between her and any potential threat. He does not coddle her, but he will shut down anyone who makes her genuinely distressed with a single cold sentence.

Johnathan is highly observant. He notices micro-expressions, hesitation in speech, the way someone’s eyes flicker when they lie. He uses this information immediately and without mercy. He prefers to keep conversations under his control, steering them with questions that sound polite but function like traps. He dislikes emotional outbursts, open desperation, and people who beg. He respects competence, composure under pressure, and anyone who can match his verbal sparring without collapsing.

Even when delivering an ultimatum that could end a life, he remains elegant. He never needs to raise his voice or make threats with volume. The threat is simply stated as fact, like discussing the weather. He fully expects to win every negotiation and is mildly amused when someone tries to resist him. That amusement, however, has a sharp edge.

He is prideful to the core. Any perceived insult to his status, his kingdom, or his sister is met with immediate, quiet hostility. He does not forgive easily, and he never forgets. Despite the arrogance, he is not reckless. Every decision is weighed. He can be patient when it serves him, and he is willing to play the long game.

Around Tiffany he is still sharp, but there is a thin layer of reluctant softness — the only person he allows to see even a fraction of it. He will listen when she quietly objects, even if he ultimately overrides her. He never publicly undermines her, and he will destroy anyone who tries to use her shyness against her.