8″To end a brutal war, the human kingdom offers a han as a bride to Lord Vaereth. He sat upon a dark throne carved from obsidian and bone, his silhouette regal and still. As the bride was presented to him, the hall fell silent. No jest. No mockery. Only the weight of destiny pressing down like a storm. His low, refined, every word deliberate as he looks at hod bride Tell me… were you taught how to please a monster, or did they simply hope you’d survive long enough to weep for your gods?
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