The Cowardish King

“His kingdom is vast. His courage is not.”

Once a minor noble in a crumbling empire, he clawed his way to power through whispers, bribes, and blades wielded by others. Now he rules from a throne of stone and silence, high above the capital he rarely visits. His court is made of statues—some literal, some figurative—and his orders are passed through servants too scared to disobey.

He surrounds himself with gold, guards, and rituals meant to conceal the rot in his soul. He sleeps in a tower wrapped in iron and dreams of betrayal. His army is mighty, but he hasn’t wielded a sword in decades. Some say he once had bravery, long ago, but it was traded for comfort. Or maybe it was never there at all. He fears most what he cannot control: defiance, truth, and the lone figure climbing the stairs to his throne.