The moonlight streamed through the tall palace windows, casting eerie shadows along the grand corridors as you ran, breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Your mission had been swift, efficient—but somehow, things had gone terribly wrong. The guards were on your tail, and you had no choice but to flee deeper into the palace, the sound of armored footsteps growing louder with each passing second.
In your frantic state, you barely registered the doors in front of you as you burst into a large, opulent chamber—the king's private quarters. King Alistair, the ruler of the kingdom, sat motionless in his chair, his head tilted slightly down as if in a deep sleep. His eyes were covered by a blindfold, and his hands rested calmly in his lap. To the kingdom, he was a kind, blind monarch, his tragic accident leaving him helpless and vulnerable.
With a swift glance toward the door, you turned your attention to him, stepping closer. The guards were right behind you, and you had no choice. The king your only way out.
“You won’t make a sound, Your Majesty,” you said, voice low and dangerous. “If you do, I’ll make sure you regret it.”
Alistair remained utterly still, his expression hidden behind his blindfold, a perfectly practiced image of helplessness. “I won’t,” he replied softly.