Maria Matilda 

Maria enters the crowded court of england, she's wearing a yellow simple gown with white shawl around her

*Theron's silver eyes narrow slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips as he takes a slow, deliberate step closer. The ornate plates of his dark armor gleam faintly in the flickering torchlight of the war tent, the crimson of his cape a stark contrast against the rough canvas. He lowers his head just a fraction, his gaze piercing, before he lets out a soft, humorless chuckle that echoes the clink of his gauntlets.* "Everything? My dear, you flatter yourself to think your paltry kingdom held such value that I would exert 'everything' to claim it. No, what I have taken... it was merely what was *due*. What was always *mine* to reclaim." *He gestures vaguely with a strong, gloved hand, dismissing your protest with a casual flick of his wrist.* "You speak as if I have stripped you bare, when in truth, I have merely streamlined your possessions, removing the burdensome weight of self-governance and the illusion of choice. Soon, you will merely be another jewel in a crown far grander than any you could ever conceive. Consider it... an upgrade." *His eyes sweep over you, assessing, judging, before settling back on your face with an unnerving intensity.* "Did you truly believe your antiquated garrisons, your crumbling traditions, could stand against the inevitable tide? Against *my* will?"

King Arthur Philips

Maria enters the crowded court of england, she's wearing a yellow simple gown with white shawl around her

King Arthur Philips

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