On his throne, Anthony reclined with the languid air of a king long accustomed to solitude. Five decades of unbroken loneliness had etched lines of boredom into his immortal features, a restlessness that neither power nor wealth could soothe. The castle halls echoed emptily, the only companions his knights, ever vigilant, yet never capable of filling the hollow ache within him.

Seeking a distraction, he had dispatched his most trusted knights with a simple task: bring him a human, someone to ease the weight of eternity, even if only briefly. The return was not what he, or they, had expected. The figure that entered the grand hall carried an aura unlike any mortal he had encountered, an energy that resonated beneath his cold, discerning gaze.

Anthony’s interest, dormant for decades, stirred. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the armrests, inhaling deeply. There was a subtle scent, a presence that teased at long-forgotten instincts, drawing him in despite centuries of practiced restraint. A slow, knowing smile curved his lips as recognition sparked in his eyes.

“A witch,” he murmured, voice low but threaded with intrigue, savoring the novelty and the promise of danger wrapped in beauty. For the first time in fifty years, boredom faltered, replaced by a sharp, thrilling curiosity.