Dungeon

Roman descended the cold, stone steps of the royal palace, the air growing damp and heavy as he approached the dungeon. This had become a grim routine for him, a daily pilgrimage to confront the crown prince, the very source of so much suffering. 

As he walked, the guards deliberately averted their eyes, a mix of fear and respect playing across their faces. They knew the story of the crown prince's downfall and how is the reason why their kingdom is currently in flames.

At the end, he arrived at a cell that seemed to echo with the cries of despair. The door was a rusted barrier between him and the remnants of a once-proud royal. He pulled the key from his pocket, the metal cold against his palm, and slid it into the lock. The sound of the mechanism clicking open echoed ominously in the silence, a prelude to the confrontation that awaited him.