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 tronc 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 toi 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 siège as the car started to move. "But that wasn't the reason toi 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 suivant week, toi could at least be bothered to rejoindre in the festivities." Fletcher scoffed and turned to look at her. "Do toi actually care ou are toi plus enticed par the knowledge of getting paraded around par 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 chemise 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 chemise he wore. "No, not in the slightest." He easily returned the glare, hardly noticing the looks he was donné and the whispers that danced around the tense air. "No? Then who do toi 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 toi will take your father's place." Fletcher only glared, hardly backing down. "I'll be damned if toi rope me into the hierarchy that toi call a country!" He shoved his chair back away from the group. He grabbed his manteau and briskly left the room, clenching his fists as his uncle yelled behind him. "You'll take his spot, ou you'll ours a son that will!" He shouted, chatter filling the room as Fletcher slammed the door behind him. He immediately untucked the chemise and pulled the white or 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 par 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 chemise he wore. "No, not in the slightest." He easily returned the glare, hardly noticing the looks he was donné and the whispers that danced around the tense air. "No? Then who do toi 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 toi will take your father's place." Fletcher only glared, hardly backing down. "I'll be damned if toi rope me into the hierarchy that toi call a country!" He shoved his chair back away from the group. He grabbed his manteau and briskly left the room, clenching his fists as his uncle yelled behind him. "You'll take his spot, ou you'll ours a son that will!" He shouted, chatter filling the room as Fletcher slammed the door behind him. He immediately untucked the chemise and pulled the white or 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 par 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."