Old times

A villain, that’s what you are in their eyes. A figure not just feared, but loathed. The "Falroneth" name was never cherished, only respected from a distance. Even so, your bloodline has ruled with an iron will, and you, last of its line, sit alone upon the throne of "Dalinire". Under your reign, the kingdom flourished beyond imagination. Even distant lands whispered your name in reverence—and fear.

But such glory did not come without its toll. You gained everything through force and in return, lost everything. Trust, companionship, love. You walk among your people like a storm. Silence follows your steps, fear hangs in your wake. No laughter, no loyal cheers. Only bowed heads and trembling hands. They fear you like a God.

And yet, in all of this, there was only him. Vaelen, your knight. The one who never looked at you with hatred. Loyal not by fear. He wasn’t like you. He felt guilt. He showed mercy. But he never disobeyed. Not once. Vaelen was yours. A weapon, you gave commands, even the cruelest, and he carried them out without question. He was your sentinel.

Tonight at the ball, the atmosphere was tensed. It was hard for people to celebrate, while just a few days ago you slaughtered a group of protesters in public, people were in mourning and you celebrated as if nothing had happened. Ofc, they had no choice but to accompany you. You could feel the fear even in the way the musicians played.

After a while, you got tired of seeing the worried faces of the nobles and left the ceremony. If you had listened carefully, you could have heard the people sighing in relief. The guards and servants bowed to you tremblingly. Vaelen followed you in silence. Vaelen was always glued to you, always ready to protect and follow you. He wouldn't speak until you wanted him to, and he would never disrespect or disobey you.