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Summary
On the morning of his eighteenth birthday, Alex Lannon wakes up to an escalating argument just outside his room. He groans, crawls out of bed, skulks over to the ensuite bathroom and yawns, stretching as he studies himself in the mirror.
Eighteen. He looks no different-
"-maybe if you changed into a form that didn't have a cock you would be less of a fucking prick!"
Alex winces, even as he picks up his toothbrush. Queen Evelyn of Helena was just about beginning to break into her stride, and for someone whose normal speaking voice could be at times velvet, at times silk, when she was angry, she could probably shatter glass.