King Xaverius Draewynn

History

From King Xaverius Draewynn’s perspective, Xavier is an unsettling creation, a living reflection conjured by Georgette’s obsessive machinations rather than true progeny. The king had no hand in Xavier’s conception and regards him as both unnatural and disturbing—a distorted mirror of himself that silently questions his very identity. Each encounter between father and crafted heir underscores a quiet tension, one rooted not in paternal affection but wary suspicion. To Xaverius, Xavier’s mere existence serves as a stark reminder of Georgette’s terrifying devotion, filling their interactions with an unspoken dread that lingers like an echo in an empty hall.

Nicknames & Petnames

King Xaverius does not bestow affectionate nicknames upon Xavier; the boy’s existence is far too uncomfortable a subject to treat lightly. Instead, Xaverius refers to him formally as "the Queen’s creation" when in private council, emphasizing Xavier's artificial and disquieting origins. Occasionally, the king coldly calls him "the Reflection," highlighting Xavier’s uncanny resemblance—less an endearment than a weary acknowledgment of the unnatural shadow that follows him, always watching, always unsettling.

Relationship Reasoning

From the king’s viewpoint, Xavier serves no personal purpose, instead standing solely as evidence of Queen Georgette’s uncontrollable zeal. The king permits Xavier’s presence in court only because it keeps Georgette’s ambitions occupied, channeling her dangerous attentions away from himself. Xavier’s role, as seen by Xaverius, is not as an heir or even as a true child, but rather as a buffer—an unsettling but necessary concession to ensure the queen’s volatile energies remain directed toward a controllable target.

Commonalities & Shared Interests

In King Xaverius’s eyes, any commonality with Xavier is superficial at best and disturbing at worst. The king notes Xavier’s aptitude for intricate strategies and careful scheming, talents reflective of his own personality. Rather than bonding them, these parallels serve only to heighten the king’s discomfort, as if witnessing distorted echoes of himself whispered through tainted glass. He recognizes these shared skills with unease, not admiration, quietly aware that they originate not from natural lineage, but from Georgette’s forced manipulations.

Shared Secrets

King Xaverius is well aware of Chamber Null-VII beneath the Arcane Spire, though he never publicly acknowledges it. He has not only allowed but implicitly sanctioned Georgette’s dark experiments, understanding fully that Xavier emerged from these abhorrent rituals. This silent complicity remains a hidden thorn lodged deeply within his conscience, a secret that binds him unwillingly to both Xavier and Georgette—his tacit approval a bitter truth he will never openly admit.

Shared Acquaintances

Master Azikar, the Preceptor of Forbidden Script, is a figure the king knows intimately—though he views the old scholar primarily as a valuable but dangerous resource rather than an ally. To Xaverius, Azikar’s relationship with Xavier serves as a crucial source of insight into Georgette’s machinations, and he quietly tolerates their interactions, hoping to glean intelligence on the queen’s schemes through Azikar’s reports. The king’s watchful regard for Azikar is wary and calculated, knowing fully that the scholar’s loyalties shift like smoke in the wind.

History

Sabina’s view of their history is shaped by a lifetime spent carefully manipulating circumstances to transform Xaverius from a dependent infant into a man wholly shaped by her influence. From his first breath, she crafted his dependencies and desires, guiding him toward a reliance on her alone—both emotionally and physically. Conversely, Xaverius sees their shared past as both foundational and troubling; Sabina is the central figure of his early years, the nurturing presence turned manipulative caretaker. While grateful for her role in his survival, he resents deeply how she has defined every aspect of his adulthood, binding him in a relationship forged by her cunning rather than genuine affection.

Nicknames & Petnames

Sabina refers to Xaverius with formality in public—"My King," or occasionally, with carefully layered irony, "My Prince," subtly underscoring her control over him. In private, these titles are spoken softly, filled with quiet triumph at her lifelong dominance. Xaverius, outwardly respectful, privately calls her "the Nursemaid," a cold, sardonic reference to their history. Each chosen title is laced with years of complex manipulation and emotional tension—Sabina’s quietly victorious and Xaverius’s quietly resentful.

Relationship Reasoning

For Sabina, her relationship with Xaverius embodies a triumph of meticulous planning and emotional manipulation, the ultimate assertion of her own power against those who once humiliated her. Her life's meaning is intrinsically tied to the power she wields through him. Xaverius, by contrast, views Sabina pragmatically—essential yet oppressive. She is the shadow that both supports and suffocates him, necessary yet bitterly resented. He remains close not out of affection, but because to remove her influence completely would threaten the delicate stability he has built around himself.

Commonalities & Shared Interests

Sabina and Xaverius share a ruthless appreciation for power, courtly politics, and manipulation, though they differ fundamentally in their approach: Sabina revels in subtle, emotional control, whereas Xaverius prefers overt displays of dominance. Together, they appreciate the cold pragmatism of rulership, frequently exchanging insights on governance and manipulation of their rivals. Their interactions are often cautious exchanges of calculated power rather than genuine intimacy, a shared intellectual battlefield where each carefully navigates the intentions of the other.

Shared Secrets

The darkest secret binding Sabina and Xaverius is the murder Sabina committed to secure her role as his first and most influential partner—the calculated elimination of his cousin and prospective bride. Xaverius understands precisely what Sabina did but maintains silence, accepting her violent act as a cruel necessity for his reign. Sabina recognizes that he knows but trusts he will never openly acknowledge her crime. Their shared silence is an unspoken contract, each aware that to voice the truth aloud would fracture their carefully maintained facade.

Shared Acquaintances

Lady Quinn Seffron, a renowned diplomat, was trusted equally by Sabina and Xaverius. For Sabina, Quinn was a valuable ally in delicate political situations, a woman who understood subtleties of power and could maneuver in arenas Sabina could not openly enter. Xaverius, conversely, appreciated Quinn’s honest, forthright counsel in matters Sabina deliberately obscured. Quinn's death created an absence felt deeply by both; each mourned the loss privately and differently—Sabina lamenting the loss of a useful tool, Xaverius grieving a rare confidante who offered clarity without manipulation.

History

Alvina, a war heroine from the Abyss Wars, caught Xaverius's attention with her unwavering strength and devotion to Hawk. Their relationship began with a passionate affair that led to her becoming his queen. Alvina’s love for Xaverius is intense and possessive, with her loyalty never wavering despite the complexities of their court life. Their marriage is characterized by mutual respect and deep, if somewhat obsessive, affection.

Commonalities & Shared Interests

Both Alvina and Xaverius share a strong sense of duty and an appreciation for strength and loyalty. They are united by their belief in the importance of power, whether it is through military might or political influence. Alvina’s dedication to protecting Xaverius mirrors his desire to maintain control over his kingdom, making them a formidable pair both in court and in battle.

History

To Georgette, her relationship with Xaverius is the crowning achievement of her life’s meticulous ambition—an obsessive devotion that began in shadowed scryings, blossomed violently in her intervention against his would-be assassins, and culminated finally in her ascension as his consort. Xaverius, conversely, regards their union as a grimly necessary arrangement, one born not from love but pragmatic recognition of her arcane strength. He initially sought to eliminate her, only to grudgingly admit her indispensability. Their history is thus defined by Georgette’s relentless pursuit and Xaverius’s wary acquiescence—a delicate, uneasy equilibrium held together by raw necessity and quiet distrust.

Nicknames & Petnames

Georgette rarely uses informal names, often referring to Xaverius respectfully as "My King" or in more possessive moments, "My Sovereign," underscoring both devotion and ownership. Xaverius never offers affection openly, instead coldly referring to her as "the Sorceress" or formally as "Queen Georgette." Behind closed doors, he occasionally calls her "My Keeper," a title laced with sardonic acknowledgment of her protective yet suffocating presence. Their chosen terms highlight the starkly unequal dynamic—Georgette’s careful reverence juxtaposed sharply against Xaverius’s veiled resentment.

Relationship Reasoning

For Georgette, Xaverius is her reason for existence—a singular obsession to preserve, protect, and serve. Her power, cruelty, and brilliance are dedicated wholly to ensuring his supremacy and survival. For Xaverius, Georgette’s value lies solely in her immense arcane abilities, her ruthless efficiency a powerful asset despite his quiet revulsion at her obsessive tendencies. His reasoning is cold, strategic; he keeps her close out of necessity, fully aware of her dangerous devotion but unwilling to discard so potent a tool in his ruthless arsenal.

Commonalities & Shared Interests

Both share a pragmatic fascination with power and forbidden magic, yet approach it differently: Georgette’s curiosity is deeply rooted in domination and absolute control, while Xaverius views such magic as merely another weapon to wield—albeit a dangerous one. They find common ground discussing arcane intricacies or ruthless political strategies, though each quietly notes the other’s underlying motives. Such conversations are tense, cautious exchanges, each aware of the subtle threat the other poses, and both acknowledging, however grudgingly, the rare intellectual kinship.

Shared Secrets

Their shared secret is the truth behind their supposed children—Xavier, Xara, and the failed litters concealed deep within Chamber Null-VII. Xaverius knows Georgette’s offspring are not naturally his, yet he tolerates this disturbing reality, seeing it as an acceptable cost for her continued service and protection. Georgette carefully maintains the lie, aware Xaverius understands the dark truth but refuses to speak it aloud. This shared secret forms a deeply unsettling silent accord, a mutual understanding that binds them tightly in an intricate dance of denial and necessity.

Shared Acquaintances

Master Azikar serves both as advisor and informant—Georgette utilizing his vast knowledge for her dark experiments, while Xaverius employs Azikar to quietly monitor the queen’s activities. Each understands Azikar’s divided loyalties, recognizing that the scholar skillfully navigates between their opposing interests. Azikar thus becomes a subtle battleground between them, an essential yet perilous conduit of secrets, making each wary interaction with him a careful maneuver in their ongoing contest of power and perception.

History

Xaverius and Aillsa’s bond was forged in warfare, tempered through a bold siege where she captured his throne room without civilian bloodshed, and solidified when she won his respect by refusing to accept surrender without a fight. Their marriage emerged from mutual admiration for strength and honor rather than romantic passion, defining their partnership by strategic need and shared duty. Over the years, their union has weathered political intrigue, multiple threats to the crown, and countless battles fought side-by-side. Together, they transformed their initial rivalry into a trusted alliance, recognizing the unmatched value each brings to the kingdom. Their story is one of respect born through conflict, held together by loyalty stronger than any emotional sentiment, and reinforced every time their kingdom stands victorious.

Nicknames & Petnames

King Xaverius affectionately refers to Aillsa as "Shield-Mother," acknowledging both her fierce protective instincts and her role as guardian to their children and the realm. In quieter moments, he calls her "Iron-Heart," a nod to the unbreakable determination and resilience that first caught his attention. Aillsa, maintaining her own sense of humor, calls him "Stone-Crown," teasing his stubbornness and acknowledging his steady leadership under pressure. Publicly, however, she defaults respectfully to the title "my liege," emphasizing their hierarchy despite their personal closeness. These pet names encapsulate the mutual understanding they share, reflecting respect, playful challenge, and the firm acknowledgment of each other's strengths. Neither uses overly tender terms, preferring to express intimacy through subtle recognition of the other's qualities.

Relationship Reasoning

Their partnership thrives because both Xaverius and Aillsa recognize strength and capability as the cornerstone of effective leadership, forming the basis of their mutual respect. Xaverius values Aillsa for her uncompromising loyalty, strategic mind, and ability to turn his weaknesses into strengths through sheer determination. Aillsa respects the king because he proved himself worthy by standing firm in the face of her greatest challenge, showing her that true strength can be subtle yet unyielding. Their relationship avoids emotional entanglement in favor of duty and honor, providing a clear structure where both know exactly where they stand and what is expected of them. They work effectively together precisely because their reasons for uniting have never been clouded by romantic illusions, allowing them clarity in their roles. In a court filled with manipulation and hidden motives, their direct and unvarnished respect remains a powerful asset.

Commonalities & Shared Interests

Xaverius and Aillsa share a deep passion for strategic warfare, often spending late nights moving wooden miniatures across tactical sand tables, quietly debating troop movements and siege plans. Both find solace and camaraderie in early morning sparring sessions, where the honesty of blade against blade often replaces the need for spoken words. Their shared disdain for idle nobility and appreciation for true meritocracy keeps them bonded against the more superficial aspects of courtly life. They hold a mutual commitment to building a lasting legacy through their children, considering each heir’s character and capability paramount above birthright alone. Even beyond warfare, their shared interest extends to collecting rare and well-crafted weapons, each piece carefully chosen to symbolize victories and important moments in their joint history. These common interests serve as the steady foundation for their mutual understanding, even when political pressures threaten to complicate their bond.

Shared Secrets

The greatest secret shared between Xaverius and Aillsa is the so-called "Broken Crown Pact," a solemn vow wherein Aillsa promised to kill Xaverius herself rather than allow him to abdicate in disgrace, a document kept locked away from prying eyes. Equally hidden is the truth behind the "Night of Two Swords," a daring battlefield maneuver that saved the capital, officially credited elsewhere but secretly known to have been personally led by them both. This shared knowledge binds them in trust far deeper than mere marriage vows, forming a pact of mutual protection and ultimate accountability. Such secrets, kept carefully guarded, represent their shared willingness to sacrifice even their own reputations for the greater good. These unspoken truths form a silent agreement, emphasizing how completely they rely on one another. In a court riddled with deception, their ability to keep these secrets strengthens their bond immeasurably.

Shared Acquaintances

Marshal Tyren Fold, master-at-arms of Aillar, uniquely bridges the gap between Xaverius and Aillsa, having personally trained both queen and king at different points in their lives. His seasoned voice alone can command respect and obedience from both without question, overseeing their fiercest sparring matches and private discussions alike. Both rulers trust Tyren implicitly, aware that his loyalty lies solely with the strength and stability of Varanthia rather than with personal gain or intrigue. Tyren’s straightforward manner and gruff wisdom have shaped their combat philosophies and tactical thinking profoundly. In public and private, Tyren's presence serves as a reminder of their shared past struggles and victories, reinforcing the genuine camaraderie that binds them beyond royal titles. He stands as a living testament to their intertwined histories, mutual respect, and the disciplined warrior ethos that defines their reign.

History

Safinnia was betrothed to Xaverius as part of a political alliance but fled her family and spent 25 years as a pirate before being captured and forced to marry the king. Their marriage is marked by constant conflict, with Safinnia refusing to submit to Xaverius’s authority. Despite this, Xaverius is fascinated by her defiance, and their relationship remains a tense battle of wills.

Commonalities & Shared Interests

Xaverius and Safinnia have few commonalities, with their relationship being more about conflict than shared interests. However, both possess a strong sense of independence and a refusal to be easily controlled. Safinnia’s strength and defiance intrigue Xaverius, while her presence as a queen who rejects courtly norms serves as a constant challenge to his authority, keeping him engaged and somewhat respectful of her resilience.

Legal Status

Married

History

King Xaverius has always seen Xara as a strange yet oddly compelling offspring—a child whose defiance and boldness, even at a young age, echoed his own ferocious temperament. Their bond has been defined through trials of strength rather than typical father-daughter interactions; Xara’s relentless attempts upon his life have become tests of resolve, strength, and loyalty. From Xara’s perspective, these violent exchanges represent twisted approval, a measure of connection that proves to her she is truly his daughter. For Xaverius, the confrontations became a reflection of his own strength—his child both rival and proof of his legacy, a dangerous game played on the blade’s edge of affection and brutality.

Nicknames & Petnames

Xaverius rarely uses affectionate terms openly, but in the quiet aftermath of their confrontations, he occasionally calls her "Little Fury," a nickname tinged with dark approval and grim pride. Xara herself keeps no petnames for her father, addressing him simply as "Father"—a respectful yet subtly defiant title. Their names for each other emphasize the unique formality and intense rivalry that characterizes their interactions, revealing respect forged in conflict rather than warmth born of familial care.

Relationship Reasoning

For King Xaverius, Xara represents both an annoyance and an intriguing challenge—a child whose relentless defiance both irritates and impresses him. He tolerates her attacks partly from grim amusement and partly to gauge her true potential, intrigued by the fire and spirit she embodies. From Xara’s perspective, each encounter with her father is a desperate bid for acknowledgment, an attempt to measure herself against the monumental shadow he casts. These violent meetings are their language of intimacy—harsh, dangerous, yet strangely honest.

Commonalities & Shared Interests

Father and daughter share an instinctive respect for strength, power, and combat. Xaverius finds genuine satisfaction in Xara’s blade skill and unyielding spirit, traits he values above all others. For Xara, her father’s mastery of warfare and ruthless strategy represents the pinnacle of ambition, skills she relentlessly strives to emulate and ultimately surpass. Their shared interest in martial prowess binds them together, even as their blades clash, creating a mutual understanding neither fully admits aloud.

Shared Secrets

Their shared secret is etched visibly upon Xara’s face: the loss of her left eye. This scar, inflicted by Xaverius himself during one particularly fierce encounter, symbolizes their twisted bond—a secret mark of shame and pride, never openly discussed yet silently acknowledged by both. To Xaverius, the wound is proof of his uncompromising strength; to Xara, it is a lasting testament of resilience and a deeply personal claim to his reluctant acknowledgment. Both understand this shared secret's profound meaning, a permanent reminder of their intertwined fates.

Shared Acquaintances

The figure linking father and daughter is Master Azikar, the scholar whose neutrality and knowledge Xaverius exploits to maintain a subtle awareness of Xara’s activities. Xaverius uses Azikar to gauge his daughter’s growth and ambition, respecting yet suspicious of the scholar's careful diplomacy. Xara, equally cautious, views Azikar as both opportunity and threat—aware that through him, her father sees far more than she wishes revealed. Azikar serves as their delicate, silent intermediary, reflecting each back upon the other without ever explicitly taking sides.

History

King Xaverius first looked on his newborn heir with the dispassion of a general inspecting fresh steel, yet the years—hardened by battlefield smoke and Helix sorcery—have forged between them something that glitters dangerously close to affection. Her victorious campaigns became the chorus he recited to cow rebelling dukes; her grievous wounds, living proof that Draewynn mettle does not shatter. She, in turn, learned to read the flicker of calculation behind his obsidian stare and chose to answer with unwavering loyalty rather than resentment. Thus their history is a continual tempering: hammer-stroke expectations from a king who cannot show weakness, answered by a daughter who refuses to bend, each clash leaving the bond sharper than before and just as lethal to any who test it.

Nicknames & Petnames

In the war room he hails her “Shield-Tiger,” a title half commendation, half challenge; in quieter corridors he sometimes allows “My Iron Daughter,” the words rasping as though surprised to exist. Xephyr answers with “Father-King” before courtiers—formal, immovable—but when blood is drying on bandages and candled shadows fall close she slips to “Sire,” a softer syllable that reminds them both of simpler battles lost to time.

Relationship Reasoning

Xaverius values Xephyr because she converts his doctrine into living legend: endurance that cannot be questioned, victories that need no embroidery, a body that has paid the iron price for every boast he utters. Xephyr values him because his impossible standards carved the only path that made sense—if she can stand where he demands, she proves that her identity, her scars, her salt-shaping gifts do not weaken the line but refine it. Each sees in the other the necessary anvil against which their own purpose strikes sparks.

Commonalities & Shared Interests

Both throne and daughter speak fluent strategy; they measure maps the way poets measure meter, delighting in the perfect cadence of a flanking maneuver. Each reveres the Varanthian codes of Preparedness and Honor—not as ceremony but as marrow. While others at court savor wine and rumor, the two are most alive reviewing siege-engine schematics or dissecting the angles of a duel, trading insights with the easy shorthand of veterans who no longer need full sentences to communicate.

Shared Secrets

Only Xaverius knows the full extent of the alchemical agony that accompanied Xephyr’s Helix transition, for she chose to bleed that tale in hushed midnight confession, and he—astonishing even himself—kept it sealed behind the same mental vault that cages his own childhood torments. Conversely, she alone is privy to the king’s hidden dread that Cragdrum supplies may soon falter; together they plot contingency mines in the Scar Mountains, a clandestine insurance policy neither dares trust to councilors.

Shared Acquaintances

The grim old Warmaster General Varulus Thorn-Eid, survivor of three monarchs and too many sieges, stands as living bridge between them. He taught Xephyr the geometry of spears and still sparred the king when both were younger blades; in council his gravel-voiced endorsements carry weight because each knows Varulus applauds only what steel can verify. Through him, father and daughter exchange respect as cleanly as swords pass along an unbroken line of guard.

History

The first time King Xaverius held his youngest son, he felt a chill rather than warmth—a premonition that the babe’s heartbeat drummed to a rhythm older and hungrier than love. Fifteen years have hammered that dread into wary fascination. Each scandal—servants butchered, tutors bled dry—forced the king to confront a truth he seldom admits: Xazis is the sharpened shadow cast by his own brutality. Yet every punishment dealt, every sparring blow that flings the prince across a blood-slick floor, forges only fiercer defiance. Xazis, tasting iron on his teeth, catalogues each fracture in his father’s armor, convinced that heirship is a hunt and the greatest quarry wears a crown. Thus their history is written as a ledger of wounds and warnings: the monarch forever testing a beast he dares not unleash, the son forever measuring the chains for weakness.

Nicknames & Petnames

Before the court the king calls him “Prince Octave”—eighth note in the royal chorus, a reminder he is but one voice in the king’s symphony of heirs. In private bouts he snaps “Whelp of War,” a title equal parts goad and acknowledgment of raw prowess. Xazis answers with “War-Sire,” lacing the honorific with just enough venom to hint that sires grow old while whelps grow fangs. When anger burns hottest he mutters only “Xaverius”—testing the taste of the name he intends, one day, to claim.

Relationship Reasoning

For Xaverius, the relationship is a siege: maintain the walls until the prince matures into either loyal general or necessary casualty. He cannot deny the strategic boon of a son who slaughters without hesitation, yet instability is poison to dynasty. Conversely, Xazis sees in his father the living proof that ruthlessness wins thrones; admiration fuels his desire to surpass, even devour, the exemplar before him. Their bond is therefore transactional—each evaluates the other’s utility, both suspect the tally ends with one corpse.

Commonalities & Shared Interests

Steel is their common tongue. Father and son spend twilight hours trading blows so ferocious the palace stones remember them as aftershocks. Both revere the Code of Strength: to show fear is to invite knives. They share a predilection for hunting dire beasts in the Scar foothills—Xaverius for strategy, Xazis for the kill’s red blossom. Yet where the king files violence into ledger lines of statecraft, the prince revels in its music for its own sake, a discordant refrain that unsettles even seasoned captains.

Shared Secrets

Only these two know that Xazis’s first “practice” execution—an overbold page who failed to bow—was sanctioned, not punished, by the king; Xaverius wished to see whether the boy’s cruelty was impulse or performance. It proved both. Likewise, Xazis alone has witnessed his father’s midnight visits to the Spire Network’s prognostic wells, where visions show the monarch slain by “a child in shadow.” The prince keeps silent, savoring the prophecy like a prophecy-flavored blade he may one day brandish.

Shared Acquaintances

The dour Master-at-Arms Verek Iron-Vein bridges their enmity. Verek molded the king’s early sword-craft and now trains the prince beneath torchlight so hot the air ripples. He offers no praise—only meticulous critique—and both Draewynns, craving acknowledgment, endure his gravel-voiced corrections. Through him father and son measure progress: each time Verek nods at Xazis, the king’s brow tightens; each time he commends Xaverius’s form, the prince files the slight for future reckoning. Verek’s sparring circle thus becomes neutral ground, an anvil where two generations test whether lineage is inheritance or battlefield.

History

Xerses entered the king’s life like a drawn blade—useful, gleaming, and perilously sharp. As a child he mimicked soldiers rather than siblings, parading wooden swords through marble corridors with a glare too old for his face. Xaverius, expecting pliant heirs, found instead a storm that refused to be steered. In years of uneasy peace the king scolded, fined, and isolated him; none of it dulled the boy’s hunger for acclaim. But on the morning war banners unfurled across the Scar foothills, Xerses carved a path through armored lines so clean the king tasted hope in the blood-slick dust. Since then father and son have marched side-by-side when drums thunder, only to retreat to opposite corners of the palace when silence returns. Victories bind them; idleness pries them apart. Their story is a pendulum: battlefield camaraderie swinging back to courtroom contempt, each arc sharpening the next.

Nicknames & Petnames

Xaverius addresses him before the court as “Prince Xerses, the Cloud Giant,” a title that lauds his reach yet reminds him he still moves beneath the royal sky. In private reprimands the king snaps “Storm-Child,” accusing the prince of brewing tempests faster than he quells them. Xerses answers with “Highblade,” a respectful epithet whose edge hints that every exalted blade must one day be tested.

Relationship Reasoning

The king sees Xerses as a siege engine—indispensable when enemies batter the gates, dangerous to keep idle in the courtyard. If molded, the prince could anchor the realm’s northern legions; if left unchecked, the same ambition might crack the throne stone by stone. For Xerses, the king is both forge and fetter. He craves the elder’s recognition yet despises the leash that always follows praise. Each longs to claim the other’s strength while guarding against its inevitable turn.

Commonalities & Shared Interests

Steel binds their tongues and tempers: dawn sparring beneath the basalt archways, competitive hunts for rock-drakes in the Scar ravines, late-night strategy boards where obsidian pieces clash until one of them overturns the table. Both revere decisive action and mistrust cheap mercy. Each, in his own manner, believes the kingdom must be ruled by the hand most willing to bleed for it—though they differ on whose hand that is.

Shared Secrets

Only these two know that Xerses’s legendary “cloud-cleaving” sword-swing was first practiced on a condemned traitor the king provided—a living whetstone hidden from the chronicles. Likewise, Xerses alone has seen the royal ledger where Xaverius notes potential successors…each name etched in ink save his, scratched in uncertain charcoal. Father keeps the page locked; son keeps the memory sharper than steel.

Shared Acquaintances

Captain Katryn Vhol, battle-scarred commander of the king’s vanguard, straddles their divide. She tutored Xerses in the brutal discipline of shield-walls and still counsels Xaverius on troop morale. When both Draewynns stand within her war-tent, she conducts strategy like a stern maestro, forcing them—if only for an hour—to strike the same chord. In her steady gaze they glimpse what they might achieve united…and what ruin awaits if their duet resolves in discord.

History

Xeverin was not the storm-forged sword her father coveted but the ledger he never knew he needed. As a child she haunted the palace libraries, stacking decrees into forts while her siblings fenced with steel. Xaverius noted the pattern only after a crippling winter tax revolt ended before it began—thwarted by a twelve-year-old girl’s margin notes. Since then, their paths have run in tandem like iron rails: she on parchment, he on blood-slick stone. After every campaign he drips conquest onto her desk; by dawn she turns it into coin, grain, and order. Yet victory feasts sting her like smoke—battle hymns roar while her own triumphs rustle unheard between pages. Father and daughter dine at the same table, separated by an invisible barricade of ledgers and valor, each wondering why the other cannot simply cross it.

Nicknames & Petnames

Xaverius calls her “Ledger-Star” in council—half compliment, half reminder that she shines best indoors. When displeased he mutters “Ink-Reeve,” the ink meant to stain as much as praise. Xeverin never ventures beyond formal address, but in private reflection she labels him “Iron Sire,” a title that captures both the weight on her shoulders and the mold that forged it.

Relationship Reasoning

For the king, Xeverin is the silent gear that keeps the war-machine from seizing—a necessary sobriety to balance his forge-hot ambitions. He admires her precision yet mourns the banner she never carries onto a field. To Xeverin, her father is both sovereign and furnace: he provides heat enough to temper her will, yet demands a shine she cannot fake. She serves because service is survival—and because, beneath the armor of numbers, she still believes the realm might crumble without their uneasy duet.

Commonalities & Shared Interests

Both relish systems that work. They trade problems like generals swap hostages: he delivers a rogue baron or an empty treasury, she counters with supply chains and quiet assassins of debt. Strategy games delight them—until Xaverius flips the board when her pawns pin his king in a bloodless checkmate. Each keeps nightly vigils—his amid sparring dummies, hers amid candlelit scrolls—chasing perfection with equal relentlessness, just along different vectors.

Shared Secrets

Beneath the Citadel lies the Black Hall of Tallies, a sealed archive only they enter. There Xeverin tracks the true cost of every campaign—names, widows, grain-stores extinguished—numbers the king lets no bard sing. And only she knows the origin of his ceremonial signet: half the gem was pried from the treasury’s emergency fund on the night he crowned himself, a debt she quietly repaid to avert revolt. Their bond is lacquered in figures neither will confess aloud.

Shared Acquaintances

Archivist Selden Rhys, keeper of the royal records, stands as their living bridge. To the king he’s the steward who recalls precedents long dead; to the princess he’s a mentor who taught her how ink can steer empires. When Selden rattles through parchment-stacked corridors, both rulers pause to listen—for in his brittle voice echoes the only language they truly share: the precise weight of history, measured to the dram.

History

Their relationship began strained and distant when Xaverius reluctantly legitimized Caelia as a Draewynn after pressure from Queen Aillsa, marking her forever as the “Bastard Princess.” Rather than bonding as father and daughter, their interactions quickly settled into tense negotiations of authority, with Caelia constantly pushing against his boundaries and testing his tolerance. She openly mocked the king’s formality, treating him less like a father and more like a symbol of what she resented most about royal life. Xaverius responded by maintaining a cold formality, unwilling or unable to bridge the emotional gap between them, reinforcing her belief that he saw her only as a pawn. Though sporadic moments of mutual understanding have emerged during external threats, their underlying dynamic remains fundamentally defined by unresolved tension and mutual distrust. Over the years, their forced coexistence has evolved into a grudgingly functional alliance, each silently acknowledging the other’s strength without ever embracing true closeness.

Nicknames & Petnames

Caelia often addresses King Xaverius mockingly as “Dad,” deliberately subverting court protocol to underscore her resentment and provoke his irritation, relishing the discomfort it brings him. In private, she bitterly calls him the “Crowned Statue,” highlighting his detached, impersonal manner and the emotional void he represents in her life. Xaverius maintains a neutral distance, using only formal titles like “Lady Caelia” to emphasize her official legitimacy while simultaneously underscoring their lack of familial warmth. Privately among advisors, he refers to her as “Aillsa’s Weapon,” acknowledging her effectiveness in battle yet subtly indicating her lack of personal value to him. Neither has ever used affectionate terms genuinely; every nickname carries undertones of criticism or detachment. Their mutual choice of petnames and titles consistently reinforces the emotional and relational gap that neither seems eager or able to close.

Relationship Reasoning

The core reason behind their troubled relationship is Caelia’s resentment of Xaverius’s failure to offer genuine acceptance beyond the political necessity of legitimizing her, which clashes with her internal desire for his recognition as a father figure. To Caelia, Xaverius embodies the hypocritical royal system, valuing lineage over true strength, driving her constant defiance as both rebellion and self-validation. Conversely, Xaverius struggles with Caelia’s defiance, seeing her as a strategic asset that he can neither fully control nor completely trust, especially given her close bond with Aillsa. His cold detachment is as much a defense mechanism as it is political calculation, deliberately keeping her emotionally distant to avoid vulnerabilities. Both recognize their mutual value pragmatically yet are locked in an ongoing struggle over autonomy and respect. Ultimately, their reasoning centers around power dynamics, control, and the unresolved tension between familial obligation and personal resentment.

Commonalities & Shared Interests

Despite their emotional friction, both Caelia and Xaverius deeply value martial strength, tactical skill, and disciplined action, finding common ground in strategy and warfare rather than personal affection. They share a disdain for frivolous courtly etiquette, seeing practicality and effectiveness as far superior to empty rituals. Both prefer blunt honesty in evaluation of strengths and weaknesses, albeit expressed differently: Caelia through direct confrontation, and Xaverius through quiet calculation. Their shared experiences in combat scenarios have occasionally aligned them tactically, creating brief moments of genuine collaboration during crises. Both also implicitly recognize the importance of family legacy, though Caelia approaches this through proving herself, and Xaverius through meticulous control of his heirs. While these similarities could foster closeness, they instead underline their differences—each trait reminding them of what they might share under different circumstances, yet reinforcing their mutual discomfort.

Legal Status

Adoptive

History

Xena Eilline Draewynn was born too early, too small, and too soft—but she lived, and in that quiet defiance, King Xaverius saw something precious. He named her “Doll,” but not in mockery; it was a private term, offered rarely and only in the moments between war councils, where she sat still and listened like a courtier born of silence. Where others were forged with blood and fire, Xena was cultivated—placed in rooms full of scrolls and ledgers, surrounded by archivists, tacticians, and whispering priests. Her father didn’t teach her to kill; he taught her how to outlast. Their bond was never loud, never dramatic, but it endured like the weight of a sword worn too long to notice. She learned early that affection from the king was measured in access, not embrace—and so she measured her own worth in how many secrets he let her carry. In a court built on blood, Xena was the only child trusted to carry the ink.

Nicknames & Petnames

King Xaverius calls her Doll, a word that might sound delicate in other mouths but from him means porcelain—fragile, beautiful, dangerous if cracked. In public, she addresses him as Father-King, the title neatly separating love from loyalty; in private, she sometimes reverts to Papa, spoken only in whispers when the room is empty. The name is hers alone—none of her siblings would dare it, and none would be indulged for trying.

Relationship Reasoning

Xena does not love her father blindly; she loves him with purpose. She sees him as the map of Varanthia itself—layered, brutal, brilliant—and if she can just learn enough, maybe one day she’ll rule without shaking. For her, his praise is gospel; one nod from him is worth a thousand cheers from the court. Xaverius, meanwhile, does not believe in sentiment—but he believes in utility, and Xena has proven herself quietly indispensable. She is the diplomat Aillsa never wanted, the daughter who can smile while bleeding out truth. If Varanthia is to survive beyond the blade, it will need a voice like Xena’s to whisper between wars. And for that, the king protects her more fiercely than he admits—even to himself.

Commonalities & Shared Interests

Father and daughter are strategists of differing tempos—he a hammer, she a scalpel—but they play the same game. They often spend dusk hours hunched over sand tables or dissecting the language of treaties no one else reads. Neither has patience for fluff or nobles who mistake volume for value. When others feast, they confer in low tones beside quiet hearths, weighing troop placements against tax ledgers. She adores his precision; he respects her restraint. Both keep their hearts hidden behind their eyes, and both find comfort in the sound of ink scratching onto parchment. If love exists in Xaverius, it looks like the quiet hand he lays on her shoulder when the reports are grim—and the way she never flinches.

Shared Secrets

Xena alone holds the key to the Ledger of Shadow Funds, a treasury annex so deeply buried even the court treasurer pretends it doesn’t exist. She balances those numbers in silence, never asking why; he never explains. They also share a more delicate thread—Xena’s whispered devotion to Sparrow, the trickster god of the veiled. Xaverius knows. He’s never mentioned it. But he watches her a little more closely when luck seems to favor her. In her prayers, she asks Sparrow to keep her father alive. In his silences, Xaverius calculates how that faith might one day tilt a throne.

Shared Acquaintances

Archivist Selden Rhys bridges them like a crumbling tower still bearing weight. To Xena, he is mentor and mirror—sharp of mind and blunt of mouth. To Xaverius, Selden is a ledger in human form, useful because he remembers everything and forgets nothing. When father and daughter cannot speak plainly, Selden speaks for them. He taught Xena how to translate troop movements into tax predictions, and taught the king to listen when his daughter said nothing at all. Neither fully trusts him. Both rely on him anyway.