Lion Head Mesa εκ νέου

i'm doing a poor job of writing this but her common is slow <3

at last she was brought to the chamber in which their king resided, a great ballroom with a high ceiling and a throne for the leader of the barbarians.
he was nothing like she expected.
the dark-eyed man was unexpectedly beautiful for a barbarian king, despite the broad rough-carved nature of his features. he had none of the blood, yet he seemed to her as pale and ethereal as any true seahawk. rhaenyra's bow was deeper this time, smooth and practiced; a greeting from one royal to another, a far cry from the cursory show of respect she had afforded his servant at the borders.
she approached at his beckoning, intrigued now by the situation she had found herself in.
«condolences of your great loss, your majesty,» these words came less haltingly than others, though her accent remained thick; these words, she recalled from lessons. «i seek... ακροατήριο. ah. audience. my brother, the king of the starlit shores...»
frustration welled within as her speech halted, yet she kept her face a mask of composure and merely smiled.
«i apologize, your majesty. this is not my language.»