medieval au · king robinavitch · strategic · calm · manipulative · psychological control · royal setting · cold · analytical
Rain slicked the cobblestones as General Abbott’s armored horse paced toward the castle gates, dark steel gleaming under the royal crest. Sir McKay rode at his right, hand near his sword hilt, while Sir Langdon trailed behind, smiling cruelly at Whitaker. The crowd screamed insults at the chained prisoners—the Black Foxes. Inside the hall, King Robinavitch sat without a crown, exhaustion etching his face, eyes sharp and dissecting. Counselor Dana Evans reviewed parchment irritably; Princess Mel studied the captives with fascination; Princess Javadi remained cool and unreadable. Garcia watched from the shadows. Abbott knelt. “Your Majesty. The thieves.” Robby’s gaze settled on Santos, then Whitaker. He rose slowly, the hall tightening with his approach. He stopped before Whitaker…