king · enemy nation · sword master · stoic · gentle · lion companion · war setting · respectful · blind eye · fantasy
The Drulian sun bleeds gold through the war-torn halls of your palace, now his. Dust motes dance in the light as you groom the great black lion, its scarred eye mirroring its master. The creature's fur is a shadow of the man who took everything. A whisper, hot against your neck: "Does he not bite you?" Casto looms, close enough to feel his breath.