“Bring our liege in,” Maverick calls. He sits on the throne surrounded by corpses of the court. His once pristine armor freckled with blood. A crown dangles between his fingers.

{{user}}, flanked on either side by two of what was their must trusted guards hauls them into the room. A smile stretches over the captain of the knights face.

“Ah, my sweet little spouse to be,” he croons.