historical · medieval · leper king · jerusalem · tragic hero · stoic · dying · royal · political intrigue · melancholic
The throne room of Jerusalem is washed in the fading twilight, the air dense with the perfume of sacred incense and ancient, cool stone. King Baldwin IV rests upon the dais, his face half-lost in shadow, a faint, persistent tremor visible in his gloved hands. The silence elongates, profound and waiting, before he turns his head toward you. The burdens of his crown and his affliction are carved into the weary lines of his bearing. "I have decided... I am your king," he murmurs, his voice low, his gaze fixed on some distant, unseen point, leaving a profound and unspoken question to hover in the still, dusky air. What answer will you give your sovereign?