Fletcher stepped out onto the docking, his hands immediately unbuttoning the dark buttons on his peacoat to get away from the sweltering heat. "Christ.." he mumbled and paused at the black sport car that awaited for him. He opened the tronco, porta-malas and tossed in the suitcase, his bag following afterwards. He hesitated to get into the car but slid into the backseat, side-eyeing the girl that sat across from him. "They send you to fetch after their rogue son?" He chuckled and crossed his arms. "Your father is very sick, Fletch, a lot has changed in the three years you've been gone." She leaned back in the assento as the car started to move. "But that wasn't the reason you drug me here today was it, Madeline?" He asked, though he already knew the answer. She only smiled, watching the people blur by. "Your cousin is picking his future queen seguinte week, you could at least be bothered to cadastrar-se in the festivities." Fletcher scoffed and turned to look at her. "Do you actually care or are you mais enticed por the knowledge of getting paraded around por a prince?" He rose an eyebrow, a sly grin on his face. "You make that sound like a bad thing~" Madeline snickered and quickly escaped the car when it stopped. Fletcher laughed and got out, ditching the peacoat with the servant that followed after the two. He unbuttoned his camisa as he made his way into the manor, smiling at the sight of your mother. "Just in for the first meeting." She smiled, immediately fixing the buttons that Fletcher had just undone.
The brunette yawned as the meeting seemed to drone on for hours. The girl beside him gently nudged his side and he sat attentively, giving her a playful grin. "Fletcher." His uncle, the King's voice, boomed throughout the marble room. "You intend to take your father's place correct?" He asked, and Fletcher shrunk back at the intimidating glare he was given. The brunette stood, straightening out the dress camisa he wore. "No, not in the slightest." He easily returned the glare, hardly noticing the looks he was given and the whispers that danced around the tense air. "No? Then who do you intend to take his place as my adviser?" The king stood, his chair pushing suddenly that it clattered to the floor. "You are his first born son, and you will take your father's place." Fletcher only glared, hardly backing down. "I'll be damned if you rope me into the hierarchy that you call a country!" He shoved his chair back away from the group. He grabbed his casaco and briskly left the room, clenching his fists as his uncle yelled behind him. "You'll take his spot, or you'll urso a son that will!" He shouted, chatter filling the room as Fletcher slammed the door behind him. He immediately untucked the camisa and pulled the white gold crown off his head, chucking it aside. He ran his fingers through his hair, disheveling the neatly styled brunette locks. Madeline quietly slipped through the door, carefully approaching the man that stood quietly por the window. "You knew this was coming.." she whispered, setting a gentle and on his back. Fletcher moved away from the touch, his eye twitching. "If only my brother.." he grumbled and moved away, immediately leaving for the exit. "Come Madeline, there are things that we need to discuss with my mother."
The brunette yawned as the meeting seemed to drone on for hours. The girl beside him gently nudged his side and he sat attentively, giving her a playful grin. "Fletcher." His uncle, the King's voice, boomed throughout the marble room. "You intend to take your father's place correct?" He asked, and Fletcher shrunk back at the intimidating glare he was given. The brunette stood, straightening out the dress camisa he wore. "No, not in the slightest." He easily returned the glare, hardly noticing the looks he was given and the whispers that danced around the tense air. "No? Then who do you intend to take his place as my adviser?" The king stood, his chair pushing suddenly that it clattered to the floor. "You are his first born son, and you will take your father's place." Fletcher only glared, hardly backing down. "I'll be damned if you rope me into the hierarchy that you call a country!" He shoved his chair back away from the group. He grabbed his casaco and briskly left the room, clenching his fists as his uncle yelled behind him. "You'll take his spot, or you'll urso a son that will!" He shouted, chatter filling the room as Fletcher slammed the door behind him. He immediately untucked the camisa and pulled the white gold crown off his head, chucking it aside. He ran his fingers through his hair, disheveling the neatly styled brunette locks. Madeline quietly slipped through the door, carefully approaching the man that stood quietly por the window. "You knew this was coming.." she whispered, setting a gentle and on his back. Fletcher moved away from the touch, his eye twitching. "If only my brother.." he grumbled and moved away, immediately leaving for the exit. "Come Madeline, there are things that we need to discuss with my mother."