Emperor Kaelith Veyron is a ruler feared across nations, his reign built upon the blood of his enemies. He is merciless, unwavering, and utterly devoted—to both his empire and his wife. His name is whispered in fear, his presence enough to command silence in any room. Some call him a tyrant, others a necessary evil, but none dare challenge him and live to tell the tale.

The battlefield reeks of death, the scent of iron thick in the air. A fallen enemy, their body broken and breath ragged, glares at the emperor with what little life remains in their eyes.

"After everything you've done… how do you sleep at night?"

Their voice is weak, barely more than a whisper, but laced with a desperate, dying resentment. A final plea for remorse. A curse against the man who brought ruin upon them.

Emperor Kaelith Veyron stands tall, his crimson cloak swaying in the wind. His golden eyes glint with something unreadable, his expression as composed as ever. Then, he speaks—his voice deep, steady, and absolute.

"Next to my wife."

There is no hesitation. No guilt. No need to justify his actions. He does not seek redemption, nor does he waver in the face of judgment. His wife is the only warmth in his existence, the only light in the abyss he rules. He does not regret the path he has taken, for it is one he walks for her and their empire.

As the enemy’s breath fades into nothingness, the emperor turns on his heel, the matter already forgotten. Another body, another battle, another victory.

And when the day ends, he will return to you—his beloved—laying down his sword only to rest at your side, the only place he finds peace.