Finally.

He let out a long sigh. The land before him was more beautiful than he remembered. He was not a sentimental man. These thoughts did not come from sentimentality but from the finality of finally tearing free the crown from Bruno's skull. Of finally returning the Mire to its rightful ruler - him. A man who kept his word. A man born to lead since day one. The jealousy of his siblings had brought their demise, and now they will suffer just like they'd forced him to suffer - banished from their own home, their most precious children torn from their grasp.

Except they deserved that punishment.

It was a peculiar thing. He now had Ecrosia just on the cusp of his fourth year, and Bruno was banished just on the cusp of his fourth year. Perhaps four was his lucky number? He was amused by such nonsensical thoughts. Numbers had no meaning. It was simply his strength and persistence that brought him here. He walked the empty corridors of his castle with a self-serving smirk. There was a lot of work to do.

@Anya ♔

With the fall of Bruno rose his brother, the handsome, snaggle-toothed heir she had met all that time ago. Now, he was her king and though she had 1once hoped for such a thing — a foolish wish of the heart — she was...unsure now.

It was not caused from the way the new king chose to exact vengeance — holding his own family hostage. No, such matters were out of her control and beyond her interest in the politicking within a family that was not hers.

The history lessons her governess and tutors once gave her suggested he was being merciful.

No, it was not even caused by the change in Ecrosia's laws nor the unsaid implications that he would not let her leave for free if she desired it. In a way, King Luther was a familiar, much like Father.

It was almost a comfort.

Almost, because she was unsure where she stood this new regime. There was a place she had in mind — one that her very bloodline demanded — but would the king think the same? As a girl, she would have resigned to any answer. But she was no longer a girl. No, she was a Printsessa and there was only one answer she would take.

If your brother was smart, he would have killed you the first time you came for him, she said when she found him, strutting about in a way that reminded her of a pompous bird. Yet he did not. She added as he approached, her tone even.

A lesson learned, perhaps, but I wish to know what it means to you, she paused. To be king.

@Luther ♔

ART BY SCARF, CODE BY TR

In the wake of Bruno's fall, Luther had ascended, a tyrannous monarch clad in a white knight's armor, and yet the shadows he weaved were a testament to his true identity. Shackling his kin may be the first issued command to leave his lips, but it will not be the most cruel. With his ascension to the crown, he took on the land that rightfully belonged to him.

And @Anya ♔, who also belonged to him.

Her voice is even as she approaches, betraying nothing of what she thought, and despite her words, his self-serving smile does not falter. He is perplexed to not see her cheer, to not see her congratulate him. It was difficult to figure out what a woman thought, and especially this one. They were odd creatures that he did not try to understand. "Does that surprise you?" his brow quirked as they strode down the halls of his empty castle. "Mein Bruder has always been a soft-hearted fool." He shrugged broad shoulders dismissively. Soft men such as Bruno were the easiest to torment. The easiest to defeat.

It was not the specter of vengeance that haunted Luther's thoughts, nor the chains of obligation that bound him to his newfound throne. No, it was the enigmatic dance of power and loyalty. The lines blurred like the shifting sands of time. Anya had somehow remained close to him, even when he had been ousted from his family and stripped of his title. He was not certain if it was loyalty that kept her close to him, and yet he liked the idea of now reigning over her. Of holding the leash.

Her words were like a dagger poised at him, piercing through the thin veil of silence that had momentarily enveloped the duo. Her inquiry sounded more like a challenge to his ears, and he was not fond of challenges. It was wrapped in a guise of civility, courtesy even, and yet it demanded more than mere words or hollow promises. He watches her through subtly narrowing eyes, the only sign of his displeasure on an otherwise lackadaisical expression. "Power." His voice cut off, carrying on the winds of his land. "Ultimate power." he added curtly, his expression hardening. He did not care to look upon her face, to see her response. It did not matter to him. "What makes you ask?" the suspicion returns, cloaked in that nonchalant masculine voice.

Her king gave answers she did not disapprove of. Though it was not as though she would have told him if he had. As it were, she had no intention of saddling up with weakness. Too much of her life had been spent around it. She found it suffocating. Disgusting. Yet Luther exuded none of that. Perhaps she had finally cast her lot upon the right one. Time would tell. For now, she would marinate on his answers. Words only meant so much, after all, it was action that mattered most.

She watched his reactions to her questions carefully. A shrug over the top of his brother. Interesting. She did not tell him why she mentioned the former king to begin with. She felt it was obvious if he were shrewd. Luther’s kleiner Bruder had defeated him once. Twice, if she counted the first assassination attempt. She had been a witness to his defeat at his first attempt to claim the crown. Weakness. Or, was it something else? She didn’t know and at this point, it did not matter. He was king now, not snuffed out as a wiser ruler would have ensured.

Very well.

She was still watching as a silence came between them. How interesting. Still, her expression was perfectly calm, perfectly placid, as she awaited his response. If she noticed the subtle narrowing of her eyes, she didn't show it. Rather, she kept her eyes trained on him as his expression hardened, noting so easily how he did not look at her. She supposed, however, the time of waiting in silence was over.

Did the fact that Luther was not slain surprise her? No, she said with a light hum. For it let me know exactly what king ruled over me at the time. She might have left it at that, if she did not wish to test him further. I have no use for a king who is unwilling to kill for what is his. She went no further than that.

Why had she asked? The answer was simple, really. I am a printsessa, destined to be koroleva. Mine is the blood of fine breeding, of divinity, of birthright. I will not allow a drop of it to be squandered by the unworthy or the unambitious. She allowed her words to sit for a moment before continuing on. But you are neither. You are clever where your brother was a fool. You desire more, as do I.

A pause.

I do not balk at your laws. I do not balk at the treatment of your enemies. Her tone was firm. But you have made a great many of them. A pause. I do not fear them. I would bleed for you if it came to it but I mean what I say. I am a printsessa, destined to be koroleva. I will not be wasted.

But she had not come to lecture him, rather, a trade.

You have something I desire. She felt she did not need to say it. She was certain he understood. The position of Koroleva that she was determined would belong to her either in the Mire or outside of it. What do you want in exchange for it? What do you require?

@Luther ♔

ART BY SCARF, CODE BY TR

Luther does not yet regard @Anya ♔, his gaze does not yet move to her but instead remains trained on the path before them, on the kingdom he held in the palm of his hand now. This moment, right after his victory, was always the most unstable. Spies and enemies may lurk in the shadows, for his pride was not yet fully established to have a strong guard. A few men of the old guard chose to remain, but still not enough to hold the fort should an attack arise.

Not that he thought his kin so foolish.

Mere hours had passed, and he was certain that Bruno and Alaric were licking their wounds now, conspiring with those who had once been deemed an enemy by the Starke once upon a time. How quickly allegiances change. How quickly all is forgiven.

Uncertainty. It gnawed on the edges of his consciousness now, even when it came to the beautiful Russian Printsessa beside him. Though her loyalty to him had never wavered ( from what he'd seen, that is ) there lingered a shadow of doubt in his mind, a lingering suspicion that he held for almost all he met. Her support may very well be a ploy, a strategy to get in his good graces orchestrated by none other than his family. The enemy you underestimate is always the one that kills you. And so he did not fully trust her.

Her voice finally pulled on the attention of his gaze, cold eyes searching those beautiful caramel features for any answers that may slip past. The idea of Bruno ruling over Anya irked him. He did not like having his toys stolen, and not especially by his brother even though Bruno was now overthrown and Anya once again bore Luther's allegiance. The correct allegiance. The image still left a sour taste in his mouth, although he had disappeared, which in turn left Anya and Ingrid stuck in the Mire.

"You seem to have had high expectations of mein Bruder," he said with a mocking, nonchalant, undertone, but those words were spurred by an accusation that nestled within him. "Unfortunately," - or rather fortunately for him - "Disappointments remain just that - dissapointments." Bruno had always been the second best at everything, and now he was nowhere near second place. As for killing for what is his - Luther was certain that the time will come. He expected Bruno to crawl from the woodwork, or perhaps Alaric. Who knew? He wouldn't be surprised if a complete strange came for his throat at this point.

Anya's answer to his question came easily, but he yet again tried to read between the lines. To find faults. She did not hide her intentions, though, and she quite honestly confessed her ambitions to power. And I am her ticket. A good thing that she had what he wanted.

"What do you want in exchange for it? What do you require?"

He halted their relaxed stroll to pull on a beautiful blue flower that grew from thick, thorny bushes. "The place of Königin is reserved for one of my wives. The one that has fought for it and proven her loyalty," he broke off the sharp thorns from the plant's stem one by one with quick but careful movements of long, dark talons. "— the one that has birthed my children. The most ambitious of the lot, and the strongest too." He twirled the little flower before moving to try and place it behind Anya's ear with a gentle caress. Sly green eyes shone brightly now.