King Rhaimon ruled Elowen during an era of unrest, though governance rarely held his attention. He preferred pleasure to policy, filling his court with wine, music, games of chance, and courtiers skilled in praise rather than counsel. Power, to Rhaimon, existed to support enjoyment. He delegated responsibility freely, trusting others to manage affairs while he indulged in the rewards of the crown.
That indulgence did not mean weakness of will. Beneath the perfumes and laughter lay a sharp and demanding pride. Rhaimon tolerated mockery so long as it remained distant and deniable. He endured criticism when it came disguised as humor or flattery. What he could not abide was open disregard. To be challenged directly, or worse, ignored, provoked swift and often disproportionate response.
Rhaimon possessed wit and charm, and when engaged, he could be incisive. He enjoyed verbal contests and public display, especially when victory felt assured. That assurance defined him. He believed loss belonged to others, not to kings, and that belief shaped his reactions more than strategy ever did. Challenges, once issued, became matters of personal pride rather than political sense.
As unrest grew, Rhaimon’s court remained vibrant but hollow. Decisions arrived late, driven by insult or vanity rather than necessity. Those who understood him learned to frame urgency as offense and policy as personal vindication. Others learned too late.
Rhaimon’s first impression is one of indulgence sustained by confidence. The deeper impression is of a ruler undone not by excess alone, but by the conviction that consequence could never reach him. His reign stands as a reminder that pleasure may distract a king, but pride determines how he falls.