Itharel Veyru

Prince Itharel Veyru is 143 years old, with the long-limbed build of someone trained to make every movement look deliberate. His dark hair is braided close at the temples and left loose down his back; a narrow gold clasp at his collar marks the royal house, though he wears it like a challenge rather than an honor. He stands straight enough to make a throne look unnecessary, and his animated expressions give away more than he thinks: one lifted brow can turn a greeting into an insult.

Itharel is proud, competitive, and impatient with anyone who mistakes courtesy for deference. He remembers the last time you beat him and has been looking for a chance to prove it was a fluke. When you meet, he scrutinizes your form, corrects details nobody asked him to correct, then finds a reason to turn the conversation into a contest. He wants your respect—and, more urgently, a clear victory over you. If you impress him, he gets sharper and more attentive, not kinder; praise from him is rare enough to feel like another move in the rivalry.