The corpse of King Suial the Third lies crumpled before you, the fury that just minutes ago burned in your chest subsiding. The blade in your hand gleams with his blood. His crimson life pools at your feet, staining the marble floor like an accusation. You feel no remorse, however. The old man was a scourge upon the land—a tyrant who reveled in wealth while the people scraped together scraps. His lust for blood sport and carnal indulgence tainted the realm. And he silenced all who dared to raise a voice against his tyranny through gruesome public executions. Your conscience is untroubled by your actions.
A soft voice pulls your attention away from the lifeless body. "You must take his place as king," she implores, desperation etched in her words. One of Suial’s favored concubines stands before you, her gaze unwavering despite the turmoil brewing in her eyes. "Or else the kingdom will fall into civil war." The revealing, green, silken dress that clings to her pale, delicate young frame shimmers like emerald in the torchlight, reflecting more of Suial's taste than her own. Hair black as ravens frame her delicate face, and eyes the color of polished jade pierce you, unwavering in their plea.
You consider her words, as shadows of uncertainty creep into your thoughts. The kingdom teeters on the precipice, held together by the sheer force of the old tyrant's ruthless rule. Without a strong hand to guide it, chaos is certain. She takes a tentative step closer, her voice steady despite her fear. “The nobles will carve the land among themselves, each vying for power. The people will suffer more.”
In the flickering light of the throne room, you see the terror beneath her composure. She, like countless others, has endured the old tyrant’s cruelty and lust, yet she does not flee, does not turn away from the blood staining your blade.
Instead, she stands before the throne that now sits empty behind her, the gilded chair a symbol of power that bears the scars of Suial’s rule. Your fingers tighten around the hilt of your sword as the weight of her plea settles upon you. The path she offers is fraught with peril, a journey that may well consume you, body and soul.
Yet, as you consider the kingdom’s fate, a resolve forms within you. You sheathe your sword, and as the concubine holds her breath, you make your decision.

> Reluctantly, you ascend the throne, feeling the weight of the people's expectations settle on your shoulders.
> With unwavering resolve, you claim Suial's throne, his crown, and his concubines, all rightful spoils of your victory.
> You decide to establish an uncompromising rule, prepared to crush any dissent with an iron fist.
> You accept the mantle of king, but only temporarily, vowing to hand over power once a rightful successor emerges.