If The Crown Fits

A dark brooding figure sat at the chair of the throne room. He was a massive and bulky man with a long black beard and shaggy hair. His face covered in scar and a stitch running from his left ear to his neck. His eyes blazed with pure hatred from the world. His black fur coat is so long that it looked like a black pool of blood.

The door to the throne room suddenly opened and in came a couple of beaten-up rogues. "Your majesty!"

Upon seeing his men beaten up he raised a questioning eyebrow at them. "Care to explain?"

Hearing the king's voice they suddenly hesitated to answer, but knowing his majesty a lack of answer meant sudden doom. "W-We were under attack.....by the candidate princes from Thalia, your majesty."

The king slowly drummed his fingers on his armrest. "How many?"

The rogues looked at each other as if hesitating. Finally one of them had the courage to answer. "Five your majesty. Six if you count the princess."

"And how many were you? Eleven? Fifteen?"

The rogues didn't answer at first as if ashamed of themselves for losing when they clearly have the advantage in numbers. However, one of them nodded, found the courage, and managed a nod.

The king, enraged by what he heard, slammed his fist on his armrest. "You fools! You have made a mockery of us! Now those good doers will celebrate and boast of their victory. What would that make us?! They'll think that Tereau is weaker than they expect!"

"But, sire." Said one of the rogues. "We had them. We could have finished them off if it wasn't for the Tamer."

At this, the king was shocked, horrified, and interested. He looked at his left hand filled with dark intricate runes sealing his full power. He clenches his fist before looking back at the rogues. "Tamer you say?" He suddenly let out a laugh. "There are no Tamers here anymore. I already wiped them all out years ago."

"The girl, your majesty. She's a Tamer."