Stone Circle when the laurel grows heavy on your brow

a twitch of dracarys' lips is given, a small noise of confirmation given as the man repeats his words; frostbound gaze searching, waiting for mockery or aggression that does not come. he understands some of the words, but the translation offered brings with it a soft swell of relief. his interest had been in learning the tongue of the highlords and common ( though the latter had been out of begrudging necessity ).
the following question is blunt, and a little unexpected. how many challengers has this man had that he is left to consider dracarys as potentially one of them? trying to carve a foothold in the annuals of history was no easy feat and not without it's obstacles. but an obstacle, dracarys would not be. i have no interest in usurping you. dracarys answers just as bluntly, words cutting cleanly like a freshly sharpened blade.
he might've been lord of the tides and the siren prince but as the fourth son ascension beyond had never been in his fate-thread.