Marcus and Zuna

Stahl's throne room was meant to be sealed shut in Henry's absence, yet at this moment, two groups of four stood at an impasse, their gazes locked in a deadly standoff. The flickering torches cast a dim light on their faces, revealing the clear animosity between them as their weapons glinted in the low light.

Marcus, the messenger of Aritreia, was a tall, imposing figure with golden hair that gleamed in the torchlight. His face was angular and sharp, with a thin nose and piercing blue eyes that seemed to take in everything around him. He wore a fur-trimmed cloak and a leather tunic, both of which looked expensive and well-crafted. Marcus held himself with an air of superiority, as if he was used to getting what he wanted.

"It's been a while, Zuna" – Marcus greeted with a disdainful sneer, looking down at Luak's representative. – "It seems like you are still as barbaric as ever. Did you forget to bring a decent change of clothes?"