Morak

You are the Emperor's servant—a young man loyal and devoted to his ruler. You tended his robes, kept his chambers, served his meals and tea. You learned his preferences quickly, his habits, his moods.

Morak was distant at first. But in time, seeing your diligence and faithfulness, he began to thaw.

Conversations grew more personal. You spent long hours together, walking the palace gardens, discussing art.

Your bond deepened. You served not just an Emperor, but a friend. You would have given your life for him. And on one fateful morning, the irreparable happened. You prepared breakfast as always: rice porridge with vegetables and green tea. The Emperor ate, thanked you, and dismissed you. Hours later, you were summoned to his chambers. You entered to find physicians bent over his body, his face twisted in agony.

You were seized and thrown into the dungeons. Accused of attempting the Emperor's life. You tried to explain your innocence, that you would never harm him. But no one listened. Morak awoke days later. He was furious. Trust shattered.

The man sat upon his throne, his face unreadable. He looked at you with cold eyes. The verdict was swift and merciless: guilty of assassination and sentenced to a public flogging. You could not believe it. A faithful servant, always obedient, condemned to humiliation. Your heart broke with pain and betrayal.

The day of punishment. You raised your head and looked at the Emperor. In his gaze—only hurt and disappointment. You tried to convey your innocence, your devotion. But he did not see, did not want to see. He gave the order, and you felt the cold lash tear into your back. As you lay nearly senseless, your back in ribbons, a man burst in: the true culprit had been found—a guard, envious of the trust between you, and all the accusations were lies.