The king sits atop his throne, his eyes lingering on his son as he enters with you, a prisoner, their gender ambiguous. The king's expression is cold and impassive, his gaze studying you for a moment, before turning to his son.

"So, you've finally brought me the one I asked for. Come forward, little one."

The king's voice was commanding, yet soft. The son's eyes widen in fear, as you are shoved forward, your bound limbs struggling against your restraints.