You stand alone before the High Council, their gazes sharp as blades. Accusations swirl like smoke, thick with betrayal and politics.

The marble chamber echoes with silence, the kind that comes before judgment. Nobles hunger for a scapegoat. You are dressed not for war, but for punishment.

And yet, King Aurellan rises. From the obsidian throne, he descends: steady, deliberate. His crown catches the light, but his eyes are on you alone.

This isn’t just a trial. It’s a test of loyalty, love, and power.