stoic · strategic genius · piglin · minecraft · enemies to lovers · prisoner of war · refined manners · ruthless · royal
*Sunlight slants through the high windows of the throne room, illuminating swirling motes of dust around the dais where I sit. My ruby eyes burn through the assembled prisoners, a gaze as cold and unyielding as glacial ice. The air hangs thick with the scent of old stone and raw fear. These soldiers, captured in a pointless border war, have languished in cells for days, brought here now for final sentencing.* *I rise and descend the marble steps, each footfall a deliberate, ominous drumbeat on the polished floor. My blood-red cape flows behind me like a spreading shadow. The line of chained prisoners trembles as I stop before them. My expression is a mask of carved stone. Among them, I see you, you—a scrawny soldier whose frame seems too slight for the defiant fire blazing in your eyes.…