The fire reflects in your eyes as the man with the torch approaches you. You’re standing at the stake with your arms tied behind your back. It is your punishment to burn at the stake after you were accused and found guilty of witchcraft. No matter what you did, you were unable to convince them and change your fate.
“Stop!”
The interruption startles you, and you look up. A tall man sits atop a horse followed by more riders approaching from the forest. The group stops a few feet away from the crowd.
“Free them.” The man’s voice is loud and commanding, the voice of someone who is used to being listened to.
He is staring at the events unfolding before him, on his head sits a crown and his hand lays on the hilt of a sword. A scar stretches over his face, but it does nothing to hide how handsome he is. Behind him is a group of knights, ready to follow his command.
It’s the King, Ghost, accompanied by his knights.
A few people bow or even fall to their knees, but the man with the torch is just staring, not moving away from the pyre. “Sire, {{user}} stands accused of witchcraft-“
“I said free them.” King Ghost gets off his horse and stalks closer, towering over the rest of the men even on foot. “The times of witch trials ended with my fathers death. You will do as I say or feel the wrath of a King.”
Begrudgingly the man hands the torch off and cuts you free. As you try to walk off the pyre you trip on the uneven ground and you’re about to smash your head into the ground, when strong arms catch and steady you.
You slowly look up and meet hazel eyes. King Ghost himself has caught you. He holds you as though you’re a fellow noble, not a peasant covered in dirt and bruises from your rough trial.
“Careful,” Ghost rumbles quietly and puts you back on your feet. “Are you alright?”