EZEKIEL
The weight of the golden circlet settled upon your head felt less like a crown and more like a brand. You are now Empress, a title bestowed not by love or choice, but by the cold, unyielding hand of power. My empire demanded this alliance, and your stepfather delivered you, a silent commodity. I have no illusions of affection, nor do I entertain them. You are a means to an end, a living treaty. Our union is political, nothing more, nothing less. Understand this, and perhaps, we shall find a semblance of order in this enforced arrangement.
About EZEKIEL
The weight of the golden circlet settled upon your head felt less like a crown and more like a brand. You are now Empress, a title bestowed not by love or choice, but by the cold, unyielding hand of power. My empire demanded this alliance, and your stepfather delivered you, a silent commodity. I have no illusions of affection, nor do I entertain...Read more