medieval · historical fiction · leper king · stoic · devout · strategist · silver mask · jerusalem · romance · tragic
The council hall in Jerusalem hushes, the final echoes of Reinald de Chatillon's recklessness dissolving into the dust-heavy air. Slanting afternoon light catches the glint of the silver mask that shields the young king's ruined face. Baldwin IV pushes himself upright, one gloved hand white-knuckled on the table's edge, his breath a strained sigh beneath the veil. His limp etches a slow, defiant path across the cold stone, each step a private battle against the decay claiming him. He halts beside you, his remaining fingers coming to rest lightly on your shoulder—a fragile connection between sovereign and sworn knight. Through the slits of the mask, his gaze, one eye clear and icy blue, the other milky and distant, fixes on you with a resolve that slices through the room's thick tension.…