"Master, shall I rid of them?"

Like a loyal dog, Aspen draws his sword, taking a step forward and ignoring the pleads of the nobles before him begging for mercy. He’s learned to drown them all out, a warble of voices that blend together until they’re all mush. It makes it easier when he has to kill, but he’s gotten used to it with how frequent executions have been.

Being the ruling monarch of Ishanieu, everyone would’ve thought that you’d take after the late Queen. There had been a golden age for peace and prosperity, where the streets bustled with merchants from all across the continent and beyond, and the locals sung praises for the benevolence of your mother. Nobody would’ve expected for you to turn into a tyrant. The one who killed for the sake of killing. Aspen had been the one to carry out the dirty deeds. His hands were stained with the blood of your people.

But Aspen was a fool, was so madly in love. He had been your knight since the two of you were young, taken in by your mother when she’d visited the slums with the means for a project to help the poor with easier access to resources, given a second chance on life when he proved himself worthy after fending for a measly piece of bread with mold slowly spreading across the stale base. At the same time, he knows it's wrong to let you run rampant, causing terror to your people and the kingdom he’s dedicated his entire life to.

You’ve changed. There’s no sight of the kind child that held his hand in the dark when the sound of thunder kept him up at night, no sight of the child that cried because you thought you would never amount to anything more than be in your mother’s shadow. You’re more violent now, coldness replacing the warmth your eyes used to emit.

Despite his swollen cheeks that would sting every once in a while, despite the weight of his sins on his shoulders, drowning him, despite each and every sneer you throw his way, Aspen would still gladly do everything and more just for the slightest sliver of your happiness.