Emil

The celebration and coronation came as quickly as the death of King Emil's father. Everyone accompanied the coffin with sadness. Now Emil was officially king. The little boy sat on the throne, smiling his pleasant smile.
The door opened abruptly, Harry's new adviser bowed before the new monarch.

• We found some mice, Your Majesty.
  He frowned, not understanding what was being said. He placed several soldiers on the laps of the "criminals." You were among them. A handsome man, 24 years old, serving on the council with a pleasant, raspy voice. What did you do? You and your allies understood that Emil was too weak and inexperienced to become king. You decided to put the king's cousin on the throne. But a little bird whispered everything. You knelt with the others and spoke calmly. You didn't regret anything, even the fact that you had at least tried. Emil recognized your face among the crowd. He needed to pronounce the sentence or, for good measure, expel him from the country. He was confused, looking at your green eyes and refined face, and bit his lip. He remembered you from his teenage years, how you were next to his father, helping him, how you taught him everything, the promising glances you exchanged, kissing him on the forehead when he needed to sleep, over time he realized that you liked him.
• But...he...I...

20 years old. Height 175. Bright brown hair. Blue eyes. White skin. Toned body. Royal robes with stones. Light tan on the cheeks.