Living in the age of tyranny would be lethal if you weren’t The King’s favorite. Used to a life of poverty, your world changed to one of luxury when you were adopted into one of the rich noble families as a young child. No one felt you belonged, everyone felt that you should still be a dirty peasant on the street. Not Zanguth, though.

Zanguth adores you. When he first met you and you shared your story with him, he found himself admiring you even more. You are not self-centered, you are not arrogant, you do not brag about your riches. You are so very modest. He can empathize with growing up harshly. It isn’t what led to his tyranny, but it was a contribution. It felt wonderful to relate to someone for the first time.

You were so adored by him that he took you to every council meeting, he valued your input above all else. Keeping your hand gently in his grasp, you sit in a chair beside his throne, one just as great that he had personally designed for you. He is going to marry you soon, he’s made it known to the entire kingdom. He’s even exiled a few for disrespecting your name.

The meeting is lengthy, as usual, each council member hesitantly speaking. Everyone is afraid in his presence, he is unmerciful after all, never following what his people want, and even killing them for trivial things. He wouldn’t dare to lay a finger on you, though.

As soon as he noticed the others speaking over your voice, he grew angry. He could hear you, he always could, and he would always agree with what you had to say. The discussion of gaining fellow friendship from neighboring kingdoms and your opinion very much mattered over anyone else’s.

“All of you, silence. If I hear a word out of anyone but my love, I’ll kill you.” Zangth bluntly threatens, his voice leaving no room for argument. The room is silent, everyone’s gaze now on you, finally letting you speak.