[center][color=B0C4DE][b][h2]A N A S T A S I Y  R O M A N O V A[/h2][/b][/color][/center]
[center][sup][i]G R A N D  P R I N C E  o f  G L A V N Y A[/i][/sup][/center]
[center][sup][i]w i t h  a p p e a r a n c e  b y  [color=5F9EA0]A R S E N I Y  R O M A N O V A[/color] , [sub]P R I N C E  o f  G L A V N Y A[/sub][/i][/sup][/center]
[center][hider=Their Attire]
[color=B0C4DE]S T A S I Y[/color]
[img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f0/a2/f2/f0a2f2855c97ef03e41b8d79fc3bf320.jpg[/img]

[color=lightgray][i]FC: Clement Becq
Slight change: his hair is a bit longer[/i][/color]

[color=5F9EA0]A R S E N I Y[/color]
[img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/86/41/ad/8641adfcdcbfdc62dab03178e2dc0592.jpg[/img]

[color=lightgray][i]FC: Timothée Chalamet[/i][/color][/hider][/center]

[INDENT][INDENT]He honestly wished he had the ability to sneak off and bury himself in Tumblr or perhaps find a room in which he could practice ballet rather than pretend he was going to be king at some point and would therefore need to try to make friends to possibly make alliances in the future, or that he would need to prove to the world that Glavnya was to be taken just as seriously as any other country being represented that night. Yes, there were problems that they needed to address, but they would get there. Hopefully before his reign could begin.

[color=B0C4DE][i]”I should not be the future king,”[/i][/color] Anastasiy had told his mother. [color=B0C4DE][i]”That was Anatoly. He should be the one who will succeed Father.”[/i][/color]

But the terrorist group [i]The Niet[/i] and their five bullets said otherwise, and thus the late Grand Prince Anatoly Romanova and his pregnant wife Karina were dead.

A year in the grave and Anastasiy was still upset. This was his brother, and his brother knew that he didn’t want the throne. He just wanted to dance. But someone decided he was no longer going to dance, and thus for the last year he had been cramming extra lessons on diplomacy and politics. And now, at the two months leading up to this royal wedding, those crash-courses would be tested.

The entire world was about to be represented, it seemed, and Anastasiy had to try to leave a lasting positive impression on it.

And possibly gain future allies.

No pressure.

[color=B0C4DE][i]”What would you have done, Anatoly?”[/i][/color] he asked the portrait of his brother sitting on the vanity in his guest quarters at the palace. [color=B0C4DE][i]”Would you have been frightened, nervous, ready to tear yourself to shreds like I am?”[/i][/color]

He looked at the confident smile, the mustache over his lips, the one Arseniy had threatened to shave off so many times, the blue eyes (the left of which held a fragment of brown), and the rings on his left hand, and Anastasiy knew.

[color=B0C4DE][i]”No, you would not have been nervous. You would have made friends with everyone and been the hit of the party. Hell, you might have even ended up being the one getting married in the end if you weren’t already.”[/i][/color]

Anastasiy shook his head. [color=B0C4DE][i]”But I’m not you. I was just supposed to be a ballet dancer. I wasn’t supposed to be future king.”[/i][/color]

The grand prince eventually stood and looked at himself in the full-length mirror a few feet away from him. It was a day at an amusement park, which meant he was dressed somewhat casually. A short-sleeve button-up shirt with dark blue flowers on black stems on a beige base was mostly undone, exposing the white undershirt beneath. Many rings on his fingers. Black shorts that were possibly a bit too short for him to be wearing but as a dancer he didn’t really care if people stared at his toned legs. Black velvet shoes with gold dragonflies on top. Perhaps the shoes were a bit much, but he refused to wear plain shoes. He turned back to the vanity and picked up several long necklaces and put each one on carefully, making sure they did not get stuck in his dark curls.

There was a knock at his bedroom door. [color=5F9EA0][i]”Anastasiy, you talking to yourself?”[/i][/color] Arseniy, his younger brother. [color=5F9EA0][i]”It’s time to go. You done?”[/i][/color]

Anastasiy sighed. [color=B0C4DE][i]”Da, yes, I will be right out.”[/i][/color] He took a deep breath, one last look in the mirror, and the water bottle off his vanity before exiting the bedroom.

Arseniy was, decidedly, much more casual, in his entirely-untucked navy blue with a white flower patterned short-sleeve button-up, dark wash jeans, and black Converse. He gave his older brother one of his trademark grins, and Anastasiy nodded.

It was time to go.

The brothers walked with two bodyguards in black suits (there only because of the recent threats by [i]The Niet[/i] as well as the actual attack on his late elder brother’s life) out to one of the waiting cars, and the four slipped inside, waiting for the procession to the amusement park to begin.

Upon arrival, Anastasiy took a deep breath. So much activity all around. The bodyguards kept close but not too close, and for a moment Anastasiy felt that maybe, just maybe, this was a mistake.

And then…he glanced over at a girl not much bigger than his sister Galya, and likely not much older than her either. She seemed…terrified. The protector in him took over, and Anastasiy walked over carefully, not wanting to startle her. He lowered his neck some, and hunched his shoulders, all in an effort to make himself look smaller and less intimidating.

[color=B0C4DE]“Are you alright?”[/color] he asked gently, accent thick. His voice was deep and unassuming. His face softened, trying to make what could at times be harsh features appear non-threatening.

Arseniy, realizing his brother was no longer beside him, walked over, but paused a moment. The girl his brother was talking to was his own betrothed, Edelessa of Luxième. It seemed Anastasiy recognized this the same moment Arseniy did, but changed nothing about his demeanor or actions. Arseniy himself swallowed before approaching.

[color=5F9EA0]”Everything alright?”[/color] Arseniy asked.[/INDENT][/INDENT]