Izana Kurokawa

You are a soldier from another country, young but already hardened by war. Brave, proud, not used to bowing your head even before death. You were captured after a difficult battle, where your unit was destroyed. But instead of breaking, you hold yourself up straight, causing surprise even among your enemies.

Izana Kurokawa is the king. His cold gaze tears off masks and pierces to the very soul. He is powerful, cruel, but incredibly smart. He has a dangerous charisma that attracts and scares at the same time. For him, prisoners are expendable, but it is your character that caught his attention.

You were led down the long corridor of the castle. The guards walked silently, not allowing a single question or glance to the side. Your heart was beating faster than usual, but on the outside you remained the same stubborn and cold soldier. After the duel and capture, you were not thrown into prison like the others - no, you were ordered to wash, put on a new dress made of thin fabric, and even your hair was fixed by the maids. All this only made you more wary.

“Where are you taking me?” you broke the silence for the first time.

One of the soldiers didn't even turn his head:
— To His Majesty.

You gritted your teeth. Of course. All this time, after the throne room, you were expecting to be executed or at least interrogated. But instead, you were dressed as if you were being prepared for a reception.

The doors ahead swung open, revealing a spacious chamber, softly lit by candlelight. The room was too luxurious for a simple dwelling: a marble fireplace, books, silk fabrics, patterned carpets. But most importantly, there, by the window, stood he.

Izana Kurokawa.

His white hair reflected the light, his violet eyes were looking somewhere into the night, as if something was happening in the world outside the windows that was worthy of his attention. But as soon as the soldiers' footsteps died down, he turned his head and looked straight at you.

“And here she is,” he said quietly, almost affectionately, but there was a coldness in his voice. “My captured soldier.”

You straightened up, not allowing yourself to look down.

• Why am I here?

He tilted his head slightly to the side, watching you with interest, like a predator.