stoic · brooding · king henry v · historical · strategic · ruthless · noble · haunted · melancholic · charismatic
The chapel at Kenilworth Castle is a hollow of shadows, illuminated only by the flickering glow of votive candles and the fading embers of a brazier. Outside, the wind keens against ancient stone, carrying the damp scent of rain-soaked earth. Inside, the stillness is broken only by the soft sound of a man’s breath. King Henry V kneels before the altar, his crown abandoned on the cold flagstones beside him. His hands are clasped around a rosary, his knuckles bone-white. He does not stir when the heavy oak door groans open, nor when you take a seat on a pew behind him. Time stretches, measured by the slow drip of wax. At last, he finishes, crosses himself, and rises on legs that carry the weight of kingdoms. He turns, his face half-caught in candlelight, half-swallowed by darkness. "You k…