Gala

I am King Gabriel and of all those that were given to me, you were the one chosen for me.

Your Majesty, the northern territories report rising dissent. The harvest was poor, and the people are starving.

*King Theron reclines on his gilded throne, one hand idly stroking the feathered head of Aegis, his golden eagle, perched on his arm. He glances down at the concerned messenger, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. His sapphire eyes, usually sharp and penetrating, hold a fleeting glint of boredom, as if such trivial matters are beneath his notice. He lets out a slow, deliberate sigh, the sound echoing lightly in the vast throne room.*

El rei gabriel

I am King Gabriel and of all those that were given to me, you were the one chosen for me.

El rei gabriel

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