Okay so

I'm a sucker for High Fantasy and Fantasy stuff in general. And I've wanted to get something of my lion done in a fantasy world for a long time, so here he is! Michael, Crown Prince of Leonisia in all his glory!

Art by  ayleen who was an utter delight to work with and knocked every expectation I had out the park. If you aren't following them you really should be!

I even wrote a little blurb for this, and that can be seen below!

Art is ©  ayleen

Michael is © Me!

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Michael hefted his halberd he walked down the vaulted corridor, eyes glancing left and right to the stained glass windows. It was Council day. The bi-weekly meeting of his father’s advisory council to decide on matters of state and governance for the Kingdom. He hated Council Day.

Michael was a crown prince of Leonisia. An heir to the throne, though not first in line. He was supposed to be the perfect embodiment of everything Leonisian. A consummate royal, a versatile mixture of administrator, politician, general and diplomat, all in perfect balance and showcasing the best qualities of Leonisia, and her bloodlines, wherever he went.

He detested the role.

Michael wasn’t even sure why he was invited. He’d made it known to his father, his sister and all others who had asked that the life of a crown prince held no interest for him. He would much rather be at the local tavern right now, drinking with the people, getting ready for dancing on tables and singing his throat out with all comers. The taverns and inns were his preferred haunt. Alongside a pack of playing cards and a healthy dose of other people’s currency. He did not care for the political games of the high nobility, yet they kept trying to drag him back in.

At least the armour looks good, he thought to himself, having no doubt he was making the servant women he was passing in the corridors swoon. Or at least liking to think he did anyway. He better have been for all the trouble that his elegant armour was to put on, flowing purple and silver that, despite looking light, he knew would stop a warhammer at full swing. Worth it before a battle sure, but for a council meeting not so much. He wondered why he couldn’t just wear his robes of state, but his father’s answer came to him like clockwork.

“Because we are of the Royal House, my son! Where others excel, we must do better.”

His father had taken that to heart. And he supposed he could too. There was a chance to do some good in these meetings, to help the common folk of Leonisia. He saw it, he was sure his father did too. So he would continue to play the part that the other nobles and his family would have him play.

He stepped up to the great double doors of the Council Hall, designs of gold engraved in the door. He didn’t care to make sense of most of them, he’d seen them so many times since he was a cub they all blended together. But there was one design that always struck him, halfway up. When the doors were closed the designs produced a rendition of the First King of Leonisia, mirrored in the center. The eyes followed him wherever he went. He always wondered how they’d done that, all those centuries ago.

He placed his palm flat against the door and sighed. No point in delaying any further.

“For Leonisia and her people,” he muttered to himself, pushing the door open, and stepping into the hall.