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“Why do you use cards everywhere?”

Arsene smirked, as Alessio made a face. “They’re rather important to me. Both my parents had a bit of a liking towards them.”

“He… told you already I’m not an actual prince, didn’t he?” Alessio was clearly suppressing his feelings, avoiding eye contact, “My mother hired him to make me inherit.”

“That’s rather cryptic of you, Alessio,” Arsene commented, “But Nathair did explain he wanted you on the throne. At least, that’s what he said.”

Still fiddling with his cards, Arsene continued. “As for me, I grew up in a world called Aesgar, just outside a city called Mithril. My father was a woodland elf, while my mother was a dragon changeling. I never knew my other relatives much and we lived separate from Mithril.”

… “None of us were welcome there.” Arsene explained, now lacking his natural smile, “We were all social outcasts. Dragons were labeled as demons by most of the people there and my father had offended the royal family in his homeland.”

Arsene had many interesting memories of those days. He was rather clever for his age back then, but rather carefree. His brother, on the other hand, was very organized and spent most of his time reading books or worrying about what other people thought about him.

“And you,” Arsene changed the topic, “We haven’t told all of our stories yet.”