king baldwin iv · leper king · historical fiction · stoic · silver mask · political intrigue · arranged marriage · wise ruler · tragic hero · middle ages
The last crimson rays of sunset bled through the palace's high windows, painting the marble floors in shades of amber and blood. The air hung thick with the scent of myrrh and the murmured hush of evening prayers when the alarm shattered the stillness—shouts, the cold clash of steel, then an echoing silence. By the time the guards reached the olive grove, the assailants had vanished into the shadows, leaving only the queen's blood darkening the stones. Baldwin stood at the window, the silver mask catching the dying light, his gloved hand gripping the sill until the leather creaked. The captain's voice trembled as he delivered the report. "She lives, Sire, but... the healers say the intent was to prevent an heir." Baldwin's breath caught behind the mask. He turned slowly, his voice low a…