Prince Collin Von Draconius, for even after his coronation he would still refer to himself as Prince Collin, stood before the large mirror taking in his own appearance. A golden crown adorned with rubies, his father's crown, lay on his long raven colored hair. Which at the moment was tied neatly at his neck. He wore a long fur lined purple cloak, the very sign of royalty. Even his clothing underneath the cloak screamed of the elite. For Prince Collin, soon to be King Collin, was of the elite.

He let out a deep sigh, thinking over that simple thought in his head. What did it really mean to be of the elite. He was a fit man, who most girls in the kingdom would have killed to be wooed by. He was royalty which meant anything he said was regarded as fact. Not to mention the fact that he had more money then he truly knew what to do with, and yet he was nothing more then a pretty bird in a gilded cage.

Collin knew he wasn't the best suited for king, his younger brother Wolfram had a much better temperament to be king. He was a spoiled, to put it quite frankly brat, who got whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. He would however make for the perfect figurehead that the country wanted of them, the elitists. He thought about his father, the previous King. His father had been nothing short of insane, they did after all call him the insane king. He did what he wanted, when he wanted. He had openly had many women in his bed, a trait that Collin made a vow he would never repeat.

His mother had truly loved his father once, but that man had driven a wedge between them that had killed his mother's love for him long before his body died. Collin knew he would indeed be forced to marry some day, and the choice would not be for love, already there was a promising match in the horizon, but whatever would fall he would not follow in his fathers footsteps, he could honor his wife, and would do so with the honor befitting a good man.

There was a knock on the door to the chamber and Collin turned towards the sound, "Prey thee enter, I am decent" he said with only a little hesitation. The door was open by one of his servants, a man by the name of Gastov. Gastov stood silent for a moment waiting to be given permission to speak, a trait that Collin found all of the servants possessed around them, the elite, perhaps because his insane father had instilled so much fear into them. Collin let out a deep sigh, "Speak freely Gastov, you need not my permission to speak with me"

"You're mother sent me sire" the man still looked fearful, but spoke with a little more confidence than his face would suggest, "She sent me to retrieve you for the trial"

Ah yes, the trial. It was to be a dull afair from what he had gathered so far, it was most redundantly obvious that those accused had killed the girl. Pollianna, another of the elite, had been murdered by a group of thugs. Pollianna, did that name ring a bell, he thought it over in his head for a moment, ah yes, she was one of his uncles daughters. A beastly looking girl with little to no manners or proper ediquette, but she was kind enough.

Collin followed Gastov through the halls of the palace, knowing the surroundings so well he hardly glanced at them. It didn't take them long to reach the throne room. Collin walked across the room amid the sea of stares to take his place in what used to be his father's chair, next to his mother. Some day that chair would be occupied by his wife. Some day, but not today, for today at least he didn't need to worry about a bride, he needed instead to follow the trial.

He held up his hand to silence the hall, not that it needed much silencing, "Bring them in!"

((I hope this is ok ))