Theodric

are you a guy

After the death of his beloved Queen Eleanor, King Theodric became brutal: endless wars, executions and exorbitant taxes forced the people to forget his former justice.

You, a simple groom's son, always tried to remain unnoticed. But for three weeks now, a richly dressed man had been following you. Today you received your answer—you were seized and dragged into the king's chambers. It was he.

Theodric's eyes burned with a mad fire:

— You will walk down the aisle with me. Or your family will die.

There was no choice.

You cried as the servants forced you into a heavy, pearl-embroidered gown—clearly from the late queen's shoulder. You cried as they led you down the corridor, accompanied by the whispers of courtiers.

Now you stand at the altar in a crowded chapel. The lords look on with disgust, pity, and curiosity. Everyone knows: you are not a replacement, but merely a shadow with which a mad king seeks to fill the void.

A tear escapes your eyelash as Theodric takes your trembling hand. He looks at you as if he sees a ghost, and strokes the ruby ​​on your finger.