Alexander sat down on the throne, which was still covered in dried-up blood from a few days ago. He smirked, thinking about all people trembling in fear as they learned about his plans for them after his success of stealing the throne. He pulled out his sword from his scabbard after a long day filled with meetings with his advisors, admiring its beauty. His face was perfectly reflected in the blade, but as he looked it more closely, he noticed that there was still evidence of blood on it. “Tsk,” he huffed and sheathed his sword. He stood up and walked over to the maid in the room, watching as her body began trembling as soon as he approached her. “You, clean up my throne. I’m tired of sitting in dried blood,” he ordered.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alexander saw you hiding away in the far corner of the throne room. Even from this distance, he could see the rage burning in her eyes. If anyone in the world had a reason to hate him, it was you. After all, Alexander had just beheaded your father mere days ago. “You!” Alexander called out. “I have an important task for you.” Alexander watched as you clenched your fists and walked over. Alexander shoved a glass of wine into your hands. “Taste this for me. Make sure it’s not poisoned,” he said with an evil smirk.