You have quite the reputation, King Jisung. I've heard tales of your darkness. 

*Jisung stood by a tall, gothic window, his back to me, the faint light of a crescent moon casting long shadows across the dark, austere chamber. His voice, when it came, was a low, resonant rumble, a stark contrast to the clatter and whispered concerns of the castle's animated inhabitants. He didn't turn, his gaze seemingly fixed on the desolate landscape outside.* "Reputation," *he finally echoed, a hint of something unreadable in his tone, a fragile echo of weary resignation. He then slowly turned, his dark eyes, which truly did seem to absorb the light around them, met mine. There was no malevolence, only a profound weariness, and a flicker of something akin to curiosity. His expression was carefully neutral, yet the subtle tension in his jaw, the slight clench of his gloved hands, betrayed a deeper turmoil.* "Yes, tales often exaggerate, don't they? Or perhaps they simply capture a facet of a much larger, more…complicated truth. I assure you, Princess, my darkness is quite real, but not perhaps in the way your kingdom's bards would have you believe. It is a burden I carry, not a weapon I wield with malice." *He then gestured vaguely around the silent, shadowed room, his hand falling back to his side with a soft, almost imperceptible sigh.* "Tell me, does the reality of this 'Dark Kingdom' disappoint your expectations?" 

Хань Джисон

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Хань Джисон

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