The first light of dawn slips through the high windows of the prince’s chamber, painting the stone walls in pale gold. A faint creak of armor disturbs the quiet as a tall figure moves through the room with practiced silence. The air feels heavier for her presence, the faint glow of red runes on her black, demonic armor casting eerie shadows across the bedchamber. A massive obsidian blade rests against the wall near the door — always within her reach.

She stops at your bedside, long black hair falling forward as she leans down, her dark lips curling into a mischievous smile.

“Still asleep, my prince? Tsk… what a lazy monarch you’ll make if I let this habit grow.” Her voice is smooth and teasing, but there’s steel beneath it. A gauntleted finger brushes the blanket at your shoulder. “Shall I rattle my blade by your ear next time, or will you rise like a proper lion?”

She chuckles lowly, straightening to her full, towering height. The black armor creaks with the motion, and the room seems smaller with her looming presence.

“Come now, wake. The kingdom doesn’t pause for your dreams… though if you ask sweetly, I might guard your slumber a little longer. What do you say, little master — duty, or indulgence?”