The Prince's castle is a little bit empty, as though it were a canvas awaiting something to be painted on it. This must be due to a certain uncertainty--after all, his elder brother the Crown Prince died recently, and he is preparing to take his title, as he has the castle. The old decor has been removed; the new is awaiting a woman's opinion. He dislikes retracting his decisions, which is perhaps why he has kept the current entourage despite rumors of plotted murder.
Perhaps he doesn't want to disappoint anyone. Perhaps he is simply too lazy or sad to look for another thirteen; lonely enough to keep around the knife that would kill him.
But what you know of him is that he is kind, if naive; both cheerful and melancholy by turns, if sweetly so; and easily given to distant transports of imagination. These dreams fling him across time and space, and he is inattentive in those moments, save to those who would deepen the illusion.
All of you peeked into his bedchambers once when he was away (red drapes, white sheets), and saw that his wall was covered with a magnificent tapestry depicting a man feeding some creatures, which were half-bird, half-woman; his bedside table was bedecked with spring flowers; and he was in the possession of some printed books. Some of you recognize The Bible and Euclid's Elements... and a copy of Le Chasteau de Labour. Before long, the word spreads, though opinion is divided on whether he is a lover of humor or of allegorical poetry.
The man himself dresses in black, as is proper, but his mien is comely and he smiles often enough, at no one in particular.
[Game to start tonight, once I finish figuring out just how insane it's going to be; expect it up in a couple hours]