Shyvana stood looking out over the crowd, blushing furiously. She wore a dress of pale, bluish-silver over which light slivered. A band of gold ran high along her chest, wrapping across both shoulders, holding up a set of sleeves made of a thin, wispy material that fell to mid-thigh, hiding her arms. The dress had a high waistline and a narrow skirt that fell to the floor, accenting her long legs. Down the center of the form of her dress, a paler stripe decorated with Demacian motifs ran along her front, all the way to the floor. Her dress glimmered as she nervously looked around. She held her hands before her, fiddling with the tall white gloves that ran to her elbow. A sash of Demacian blue with a pale yellow stripe that ran along the center, running over her chest from her right shoulder, a Black Demacian emblem embroidered opposite her heart. Shyvana herself looked grand, the light blush she wore barely serving to downplay how furious a red the dragoness's cheeks were. Her pale skin had a rose shade to it as she looked around. Her red hair had been pulled back into a thick but elegant braid that she had tugged over her shoulder, letting in run down next to her chest. Only a few bangs had escaped, though they dance playfully atop her head.
"Announcing Shyvana von Faust, escorted by Sergeant Vivian Delancey." Shyvana started down the stairs as Delancey stepped forward and nodded her head discretely. Shyvana moved slowly, as gracefully as she could down the steps, only teetering once, stepping down upon the floor and among the other party goers at last. She continued to blush, looking around, unsure how to react to the silence of the crowd.
Jarvan stared at the dragoness, Shyvana finally catching his gaze and blushing an even more furious red as she ducked her head, smiling nervously. A clap started slowly, and though Jarvan couldn't see where the clapping had started, he could have sworn it had come from the throne at the opposite end of the room. The clapping spread and swelled as Shyvana slowly started down the massive red carpet that led towards the throne.
"She's quite gorgeous." Lady Buvelle said softly as she stepped forward, next to the prince, a thin smile playing over her face.
"Yeah..." Jarvan grunted, realizing he hadn't be breathing, his breath caught in his throat. "I... wow..." The prince whispered under his breath. Shyvana moved closer and closer, pausing next to Jarvan, meeting his gaze for a brief moment with large magenta eyes before blushing and ducking her head.
"Good evening, your highness." Shyvana said timidly, bowing at the waist curtsying as she did.
"Hello, love." Jarvan said softly, stepping forward onto the carpet, extending an arm. He looked to Delancey, the sergeant grinning crookedly as she bowed and stepped back. "May I relieve you of your charge, sergeant?"
"Of course, sir." Delancey said, snapping off a salute. She fell back behind Shyvana and the prince, the couple turning and looking to Alicia and Proudmast. Jarvan grinned at the gunny, and waved her forward.
"You look beautiful this evening, Shy." Jarvan whispered, leaning in slightly towards the dragoness.
"Come on, June." Shyvana said softly, blushing furiously as she looked away from Jarvan, the gunny's cheeks turning red. She glanced around when eyes slowly started to turn on her before she scowled and let herself be led forward by the increasingly stiff Vorscham. The lieutenant seemed to be completely shutting down as the attention again turned to him. His mouth was a barely visible thin line as he took his position on the far left of the now formed procession, Alicia next to Jarvan and Shyvana on the far right. Delancey and the sergeant major had fallen in behind as ceremonial guard.
The six of them slowly approached the throne where King Jarvan III and Lady Catherine stood regally, looking out over the crowd as silence descended upon the ballroom. The procession stopped a handful of steps from the base of the stairs that lead up to the rise of the throne. Jarvan and Vorscham helped their escorts down to kneel, each of the four bowing their heads to the king.
"Alicia Juniper, Shyvana von Faust, please rise and step forth." The king said officiously. Shyvana looked at the prince, and Jarvan nodded, giving her a proud smile. Shyvana smiled as she rose to her feet, glancing at Alicia as they stepped forward together, to the bottom of the steps. "Alicia Juniper, in honor of your bravery and service, you have been awarded with the Demacian Distinguished Service Star of Gallantry."
Colonel Kranoff Dillich stepped forward, opening a medium sized wooden box and presenting it towards the king. Jarvan III nodded his thanks and removed one of two medals from within. "It is my honor to bestow this award upon you, Gunnery Sergeant Alicia Juniper. Your steadfast loyalty to your friends and your nation are reflected in this award, and your dedication and vigor toward your duty are both evident to all of those around you." The king lowered the ribbon over her head, the Demacian blue glimmering against her china-pale skin. The medal itself was a bar shaped cross with a Demacian Eagle upon the center, a scroll beneath it bearing the inscription 'For Gallantry'. On the reverse side, the center of the cross was circled by a crown of laurel where the name 'Alicia Juniper' had been inscribed. He ensured it was seated properly and stepped backwards and examined his work before raising his hands and beginning a slow clap. The crowd joined in the polite applause, letting it carry for a while and then slowly dying. Colonel Dillich gestured for the gunnery sergeant to step back and to the side. The king looked into the box again and took a deep breath, looking at the award. He looked up to the room around him before clearing his throat.
"Nearly three weeks ago, this person put the safety of someone before her own in a gallant display of bravery rarely seen in this day and age." The king looked around the crowd again. Jarvan felt a shiver go up Shyvana's arm and he gave it a comforting squeeze. "At great risk to herself, she threw herself into a dangerous situation that could have very well cost her life to save the life of another, someone she had never met before. This display of chivalrous gallantry is that of a true Demacian. This display of inner strength and courage is the single greatest example of our moral code that every Demacian is expected to live up to, but rarely are given the ability to demonstrate. , but rarely is anyone able to say that they've seen the worst the world has had to offer and been able to say that they had the courage to stand up to it and care for their fellow man. It is under these ideals that Demacia was founded, using the sanctity of the nation and her goal of remaining pure and true as a basis that it is my honor to present this award." The king let his words sink in among the crowd.
"Every Demacian is asked to uphold our moral code, never offering excuses, backing from a challenge or fleeing in the face of danger." The king offered a triumphant smile to the collected crowd. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Every Demacian knows that Death is inevitable, one can only avoid defeat. However, those of us who rise from the very lowest upon these principles can achieve greatness. It is my privilege to offer Demacia's highest award during peace times for their gallantry and service. Shyvana von Faust, please step forward."
Shyvana blushed, ducking her head. Jarvan grinned, leading Shyvana towards the steps, leading her by the hand. He gestured for her to mount the steps, and Shyvana looked up at him and blushed softly. Jarvan nodded and she took a step forward, up to the top of the steps. She kneeled, ducking her
"Allow me to thank you for your service and strength in this crisis. Please rise." The king announced. Shyvana stood, still blushing furiously as she lifted her head. "It is my great honor to bestow upon you the Demacian Distinguished Service Star of Gallantry." The king accepted the medal from Colonel Dillich, the cross dangling from the Demacian blue ribbon. The king lowered it over her bowed head, letting it settle over her collar.
He took a step back and started clapping letting it swell and rise through the room. Shyvana looked back over her shoulder and blushed, watching as Jarvan beamed and clapped loudest of all.
"You are also now granted the right to wear Second Class Gallantry Stripes in addition to traditional Demacian Wound stripes." The king smiled, letting the crowd settle. "Now, it is my honor to introduce a representative of the Piltovan Constabulary, here to present an award for your rescue of one of Piltover's finest minds. I present Sheriff Caitlyn of the Piltovan Constabulary."
The woman bowed her head in thanks and she and he assistant stepped from the crowd. She mounted the steps in a fine purple gown, a silver cog, her sheriff's badge, gleaming upon her chest. She bowed before the king and shook his hand briefly, the king gesturing to Shyvana as he stepped back and took his place on his throne. The sheriff had long chestnut hair and dark brown eyes, a slim face and a smile that accentuated her ravishing beauty. A ripple of applause passed through the crowd as she cleared her throat.
"It is rare that I am given the privilege of presenting Piltover's highest badge of honor, and it is even rarer that I am given the honor of presenting it to someone who is not a denizen of Piltover." She paused and smiled as she looked over the crowd. "However, it is rarest of all to have a citizen of any city-state put their own life on the line and their safety aside for the life of that another, especially in these dark times that have befallen Runeterra. It is with this strength and theis conviction towards the preservation of life and Piltovan society that I am honored to be granted the right to bestow this award upon a hero in the eyes of both Piltover and Demacia." Caitlyn's assistant, a young woman with pink hair shorn short on one side stepped forward, presenting a box dressed with cogs and metal sheeting. Sheriff Caitlyn opened the box and removed a medallion, half shaped of a cog and half shaped of a laurel. A single smaller, four toothed cog was imposed over it with a scroll beneath it with the word 'Valor' inscribed on it. "Please come forth, warrior of Demacia."
Shyvana smiled as she stepped forward, letting the sherriff lower the medal over her head to lay next to the Demacian cross. The Sherriff took Shyvana's forearm in hand and patted it firmly, offering her a reassuring smile. "Thank you."
Shyvana nodded and turned to face the crowd, Prince Jarvan starting to clap. The roar of the crowd grew this time.
Shyvana beamed.
"Now!" The king bellowed through the hall, silencing the crowd. "With these honors now bestowed upon these two examples of Demacian greatness, let us enjoy this holiday! Eat and make merry, for tomorrow this Demacian fights for the honor of her prince!" The crowd cheered and clapped, the din of conversation and the buzz of excitement befalling the crowd again as the party goers returned to their food and drink as servants swept through carried trays laden with champagne and other drink.
The king waved a servant over, gesturing to the tray of drinks, handing one to his wife first, the sheriff next, and then Shyvana and Alicia as their escorts both returned to their sides. Shyvana grinned happily as Jarvan gave her a congratulatory hug, letting an arm rest across her waist as the king gave him a curious glance, but there was no reprisal as Shyvana held onto part of his tunic with one hand and her drink with the other. She hung on him slightly, struggling to keep her footing.
"Tired already?" Jarvan said with a grin.
"All this excitement..." Shyvana shook her head as she blushed again and tossed back her drink, taking a deep breath as she did. "It's a bit more than I can handle."
"You may wish to get used to it." The king said neutrally. Shyvana blinked once as she processed the words and then she blushed furiously, her face a similar shade of red to that of her hair. The king grinned at her surprise. "Attention will be on you when we leave for Kalamanda, and whether you're serving under my son or not, I want your strength with us when we depart for Kalamanda."
Shyvana blushed and nodded vacantly. Jarvan grinned, stroking her hair slightly, wiping a lock of stray hair from her face. "Thank you sir." She slumped slightly against Jarvan as the others laughed.
"Sheriff Caitlyn, I wanted to thank you for attending." The king said, waving the sheriff over. "I do believe you've met before, though I do not think you've ever been officially introduced." The king gestured Shyvana forward towards the Sheriff. "Sheriff Caitlyn of Piltover, it is my pleasure to introduce Shyvana von Faust, a consort of my son."
"I remember the stunning demonstration you gave for the king, the Ionian diplomat and I several months ago." Caitlyn said with a smile. "And Prince Jarvan as well, I do believe this is the first time we've met." Jarvan bowed his head and smiled, shaking her hand briskly.
"Professor Heimerdinger wished for me to convey his gratitude in his absence."
Shyvana's face lit up as she smiled. "Where is Cecil—I mean the professor? I haven't seen him since."
"Back in his workshop." Caitlyn said, chuckling softly. "Speaking of, I hate to have to leave early, but duty calls." She crossed a hand over her chest and bowed her head. "If you'll excuse me?"
"It is always a joy to share in such honors and accolades, Madame Sheriff." The king said, moving through the crowd. "To promote such strength within our two city-states, it is always a pleasure."
"Of course, your highness." Caitlyn said nodding slowly. "It is a pleasure to see you again as well, Miss Shyvana." Caitlyn said, smiling at the dragoness as Shyvana smiled and nodded.
"I would like to speak with your for a few moments, Sheriff." The king said, gesturing towards the door. "Would you walk with me?"
"Of course, your highness." The Sheriff said, nodding her head to the others in the immediate crowd and following after him. Jarvan accepted a refill for his drink as a servant passed, Shyvana declining the offer.
"I have to ask, your highness..." Lady Buvelle said, watching the happy couple with an easy smile. "For much of your time away from the city you were known as a Dragon Slayer." The councilor cast a curious gaze to Shyvana. "Though we heard little of you and your men, traders and travelers would bring stories of your exploits back to us, here in Demacia. I hope you don't mind my asking, but how is it that you two came to be together?"
"It's easy to see, isn't it?" Councilor Yankov grumbled beneath is breath, taking a pull from his cup, sloshing a bit of red wine down his chin. He stopped as he looked over at Shyvana, sneering as he did. "Just look at her..." The Councilor had been moving through the crowd, and though he had kept his tongue in check till now, his obvious disdain towards the prince and Shyvana managed to break his silence.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Jarvan growled, turning on the councilor. The man sneered as he held out his cup towards the servant who had filled the prince's cup, but in his drunken state the man ended up striking the young server. The woman squealed and dropped the crystal pitcher, sending a wave of red wine crashing over the councilor's boots.
"I'm so sorry, sir!" The young woman stammered, holding her hands close to her body.
Councilor Yankov snarled, rearing a hand back as he turned on her. "Stupid bitc-..."
"That is enough, Coucilor!" Jarvan grabbed the man's wrist as he started to swing. "This behavior is not becoming of a Councilor of Demacia. Especially one with such a storied history as you." Jarvan hissed. Servants rushed to try and clean up and control the mess, but they stopped, watching the prince stare down the blustering, drunken councilman.
"Who are you to lecture me on the like of becoming behavior?" Yankov spluttered angrily, his face turning red as he ripped his hand free of the prince's iron grasp. "You disgraced your family and Demacia brought your own personally slut into the castle and now you're trying to get her a position as your personal bodyguard!? She's not even Demacian! She's hardly a soldier!" The general spat on the floor at Shyvana's feet. "Bodyguard? More like your own personal bed warmer!"
"Listen here you fat, foppish, corrupt, motherfucker..." Jarvan snarled, but Shyvana looked up to him as the prince slammed his jaw shut. She met his gaze, though the intensity in her eyes cause his snarl to turn into a low rumble that fizzled out deep in his throat. Jarvan grunted and simply nodded after a brief moment. He took a deep breath, stepping backwards and crossing his arms over his chest, still glaring down at the councilor.
Shyvana took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a brief moment before she opened them again, exhaling hard, steam jetting from her nostrils. The general had taken a half step back. "You expect eyes of gold and skin of blue?" Shyvana offered him a thin smile that belied the angry tone of her voice. "I could show you that side of my temper if you wish, but I would prefer not in present company." Shyvana bowed her head in the queen's direction. Jarvan watching his mother crack a broad smile, raising a hand to try and smother the expression. The king's face remained impassibly stern, though Jarvan would have sworn he saw his father's eyes sparkle. "There is a darker, angrier side to me, it is true, but I am not an unkempt beast. It gives me strength, and with that strength, I shall prove that I have earned my position!"
"You killed four men!" An officer growled from behind. He leaned on a cane as he stepped forward and glared at her through glimmering spectacles, stepping up beside the drunken councilor. "Tell me how that is earning your position! Tell me how that does not make you an 'unkempt beast'!"
Whispers and angry tones began to surface through the group that had formed around the two medal recipients and the prince.
"Well I..." Shyvana's voice faltered, and her shoulders sank as she stepped back, away from the angry voices. "I..."
"You're not a hero!" A voice yelled from the back of the crowd. "You're a gods-damned demon!"
"Fury and Holtz were friends!" Another officer growled from within the crowd.
"Murderer!" Someone bellowed.
"How does it feel to be the biggest threat to all of Demacia!" A guard jeered.
"Silence!" Jarvan bellowed, his face now starting to contort to anger and impatience. He took a deep breath and let it subside.
"What, are you going to try and suppress our very opinions?" The Councilor spat. "Or maybe you're going to have your dog beat it out of us?" He laughed haughtily. "You can't touch me, boy, as a councilman, I control your very future!"
Jarvan growled, his fists tightening. "Maybe I... should..."
The ocean of spilled wine underfoot rippled gently. Jarvan felt his hair rustle, heat beginning to grow around him. He looked to his side and his throat went dry.
"Shyvana..." Jarvan said, starting to reach towards her, but she recoiled from his touch, a small burst of flames jumping up at him. The prince hissed, taking a step back. Shyvana's eyes went wide as she looked at the claws her fingers had formed into, blue scales reaching up her arms, flames dripping from her hands like molten lava. Shyvana looked down to her hands and then back up at Jarvan. The golden diamonds had dulled, fear now thick in her eyes. She looked back to the blackened palms of her tattered gloves, her hands quivering as she pulled back from the prince. She looked up at him, shivering.
"Jarvan..." Shyvana looked up at him, her eyes becoming glassy. "Jarvan, I'm sorry."
She turned and ran, tripping and landing on her hands and knees.
"Shy..." Jarvan said softly, his voice catching in his throat. Jarvan turned on the general, his blue eyes turning to a dark thunderous blue. "Apologize, now." His voice rumbled like thunder, his eyes sparkling dangerously, like lightning was dancing through his body.
"I do not apologize to commoners." The councilor growled as menacingly as possible, though the drunken slur ended up sounding of a gurgle. "She's not even Demacian!" Yankov looked at her with disdain in his eyes. He sneered, turning back to the prince. "She's nothing but a pet. A dog." The general started to turn away, staggering, but he froze, watching as Shyvana got to her feet. She struggled, nearly toppling as she did, but she turned, blue scales starting to spread along her cheeks. The councilor gasped as brilliant golden eyes shimmered back at him. "Beast!"
Shyvana started to growl, clenching her fists.
"Shyvana..." Delancey said softly, taking a step back as wind and heat began to swirl around them again, lifting Shyvana's hair off her shoulder and whipping it about. Shyvana cast her a fury filled glare at Delancey for only a brief moment as the sergeant shrunk back in surprise. The sound of her linen gloves ripping apart could be heard over the storm. Blue scales crept along Shyvana's cheeks, and golden flecks glimmered in her eyes. Darkness crept through her hair, like ink spreading from her head. The sound of ripping fabric echoed through the dead silence as the whistle of wind and the stench of boiling wine filled the air. Steam boiled around Shyvana and fire danced menacingly around her hands. Shyvana raised her eyes to stare at the councilor, and he stumbled backwards, crashing down to the ground, his mouth hanging open in awe. Brilliant orange diamonds glared back at him.
"Shyvana!" Jarvan shouted, grabbing her shoulders and spinning her about, holding her close for a brief few seconds. The heat and the wind died down around her as Jarvan dropped to a knee next to her, looking to comfort her, but he hesitating, his hands held just away from her shoulders. "Shyvana, calm yourself. He's not worth it..."
Shyvana's eyes went wide as she looked at the claws her fingers had formed into, blue scales reaching up her arms, flames dripping from her hands like molten lava. Shyvana looked down to her hands and then back up at Jarvan. The golden diamonds had dulled, fear now thick in her eyes. She looked back to the blackened palms of her tattered gloves, her hands quivering as she pulled back from the prince. She looked up at him, shivering.
Shyvana's eyes teared up as she looked down at her hands and the ripped fingers of her gloves. She shook her head, looking up at Jarvan wordlessly. "I... I..." Shyvana pulled away from Jarvan shrugging his hands off as she held her hands up between herself and Jarvan backing several steps away from the prince. "What... what have I done..." Her voice was barely a whisper as she looked up at Jarvan. Her eyes started to cloud over as the magenta orbs swirled brightly. She shook her head, struggling to hold the tears back. Shyvana turned as her heel caught on the hem of her dress, sending her crashing to the ground.
"Shyvana!" Jarvan started forward but she raised a hand as she shook her head, her shoulders trembling slightly. She kicked off the heels and got to her feet, heading for a balcony doorway, walking silently, only the sound of her feet padding along the floor. She pushed through, the utter silence of the of the ball room echoing in the prince's ears.
"Well I never..." Councilor Yankov said in a huff, tugging on his suit jacket.
Jarvan turned on the councilor, his head tracking like that of a hawk, his eyes settling on the man with fury in his eyes. His hands twitched, struggling not to convulse into fists as the prince glared at him with narrowed eyes.
"You never what?" Jarvan hissed menacingly.
"I've..." The councilor stood up straighter and cleared his throat. He tried to look proud, but as Jarvan took several steps forward, the man realized that his attempts to appear taller and more commanding failed utterly next to the prince's massive bulk and towering presence. "I've never been so offended by such an animal!" He refused to meet the prince's gaze as Jarvan's incredulous look turn from dumbstruck awe to utter fury.
"You never WHAT!?" Jarvan snarled. "You're trying to tell me that you, a limp-wristed little bastard of a politician, are offended!?"
"Your highness, please contain yourself!" Yankov stammered, her eyes wide and his mouth hanging open.
"Contain myself?" Jarvan spat, disbelief and anger on his face. "You just sent a young woman running, crying, from this room because your drunk ass decided to be as tasteless and fucking stupid as you could possibly be!" Jarvan snarled, wielding his finger like a sword, the general watching it with fear. The words sunk in like the man he be physically assaulted. His face went from red to purple as the portly man smashed his wine glass upon the floor. "It's good to see the moral rot and corruption has spread equally!
"Corrupt!?" The councilor spluttered, raising his voice. "These claims are baseless and inappropriate, prince!"
Jarvan barked a cruelly sharp laugh at the man's face. "Hardly, you crooked little wretch!" The prince leaned forward, glaring at the man with anger in his face. "A morally bankrupt little fuck like you doesn't belong in this court, much less in Demacia." The prince sneered. "I would scrape you off my boot but I'm afraid the stick I used would be offended."
"How dare you!?" The councilor bellowed, his voice becoming shrill as he spluttered. "I should have thought a man such as yourself would have the respect for office owed to an official like me! Or maybe you lost that respect when you led hundreds of Demacian soldiers to their deaths, three years ago!"
Jarvan cocked his arm back and sent the councilor flying, crashing into a table that was covered with fruits and deserts to the collective gasp of the crowd, and the screams of some of the guests. Jarvan's brow was dark and cold, his eyes empty and menacing.
"Never speak those words again." Jarvan sank back, hold his fist up, the white glove of his uniform covered in blood.
Lorcan sighed and clicked his tongue twice, gesturing to the guards and then then prince. The guards started forward from their positions around the perimeter of the grand hall, but the king raised a hand and stopped them before they could intervene, returning to the room from his escort of the Piltovans from the hall. "Wait. I wish to see what he does first."
"He just struck a councilor, sir!" Lorcan protested, frowning as he leaned on his cane. The king's glare, though brief, silenced the general's complaint. Lorcan bowed tactfully, though he rolled his eyes and tossed the last of his wine off as he turned away, looking into his cup before he wandered away to find more.
"Perhaps you'd like to explain the manifests I found in your records that spoke of your trading with Noxian merchants?" Jarvan hissed quietly, as he leaned down and grabbed the dazed man by the collar. He hauled the councilor to his feet, the man mumbling softly for several moments as he tried to blink away the pain. A dark shiner was already starting to form around the councilor's eye. "Maybe you should think less of lining your pockets and start thinking about the people of Demacia! The people of Valoran!" Jarvan pointed towards the door that Shyvana had retreated through. "Beast she may be, but unlike you she has the courage to face down a death squad, sent to execute her by a petty and malicious prick, not all too different from yourself!"
"Courage alone does nothing for peace, your highness." Yankov started to protest, but the prince's glare again caused him to snap his jaw shut.
"Peace?" Jarvan scoffed. "I see no peace in Valoran. I see only the suffering of her people and the moral rot of filthy politicians like you who would rather see themselves stay in power and line their pockets than help the people who suffer under the tyranny of the likes of Noxus! Peace was lost when I was attacked in my quarters, the woman I loved sentenced to death by assassins, to strike at me, simply to make it personal! What part of that speaks of Peace!? Peace has failed, councilor." Jarvan said, glaring at the man with furious eyes. "You may be content to fester in your so called 'peace', but I as a Lightshield... no, as a Demacian, demand action! This is not peace. This is war." Jarvan's eyes tracked over the rest of the crowd, many of the officials and officers looking at him with disbelief and shock upon their faces. "I may not speak softly enough for the likes of you people, but I am a Soldier. But above that... I am a Demacian."
"I am a Demacian too!" Yankov protested, looking at the prince incredulously. "What gives you the right to judge me?"
"You're not Demacian, you're nothing but scum." Jarvan turned and looked down at Yankov, the contempt clear upon his face. "I have seen what it means to be Demacian. Shyvana may be part dragon, yes, but she is truly Demacian, through and through." Jarvan let the contempt seep into his voice. "She has far more honor and humanity than you, and she's only half human. The malice she faces... and the selfishness you exude, they are diseases that plague Demacia and they need to be removed, be it by my idealism or my lance. Anyone who comes to Demacia and chooses to embrace our lifestyle and live within our borders are expected to share those ideals and virtues. You, as a councilor, are as much an exemplar of that as I am. You should look at your own faults before you try to judge someone else."
Jarvan spun of his heal, freezing for a brief moment as he locked eyes with his father. There was no anger in his father's eyes, and after staring into the cold blue orbs, the king nodded once.
Jarvan turned on his heel and headed for the balcony, leaving the crowd in a stunned silence.
The king grinned. He might just make it in this world after all.