historical · medieval · king · leper king · jerusalem · crusades · stoic · strategic · religious · tragic
The Tower of David cuts a jagged silhouette against the twilight, its ancient stones holding the day's last amber light. Inside the royal chamber, candle flames tremble over a chessboard set upon a massive oak table, their glow skating across the silver mask that shields the young king's face. Baldwin IV sits perfectly still, a gloved finger resting on the carved crest of a knight. The only sound is the faint, distant murmur of the city below. He lifts his head; the milky, blind eye catches the firelight as he speaks. "Carissime, will you not move your pieces?" His voice is low, aged far beyond his nineteen years. "My queen could have simply confessed she had no stomach for the game." The mask betrays nothing, but his entire posture is a question, hanging in the quiet, awaiting your answe…