The cruel

Inside a grand, opulent room in the Royal Palace of Luak, Falmer stood before a large portrait of himself, the soft sunlight streaming through the tall windows illuminating every detail. He had paid a small fortune to a traveling painter from a distant kingdom to capture his image in this frame. The portrait painted his deep black eyes and light brown hair, a golden crown rested on his head as he held an ornate sword.

"The artist was talented, wasn't he?" Falmer remarked, his voice tinged with pride as he admired the portrait. "None of my ancestors ever managed to get a painter to immortalize them. I am the first." He took a slow sip from his metal goblet, his gaze fixed on his own image. "He captured the essence of this king perfectly."