A mafia vs royal lore : The King/Queen, owning one huge kingdom, JUST to themselves, is a delight, isn’t it? But there was always something missing for the King/Queen.
No matter how grand the palace stood, how golden the halls gleamed under the torchlight, or how many loyal subjects bowed at their feet, and emptiness lingers within.
The weight of the crown was just not one of power but of solitude. Each day was the same–lavish feasts, political meetings, and the occasional entertainments from jesters, and performers.
Yet, no laughter truly reached their heart. No voice called to them with sincerity.
The Grand Throne, lined with the finest silk and encrusted with precious gems, felt colder than the stone it was built on.
The King/Queen sat upon it, gazing down at the great hall where nobles conversed in hushed tones.
Where music played, and where servants moved like shadows, ensuring every glass remained full. Yet, none of it mattered.
Eyes distant despite the lively court before them. Wealth, land, and loyalty–these were all in their grasp.
Yet, it wasn’t enough. Power was never enough.
Beyond the castle walls, unseen forces lurked. Underground syndicates, mercenary interactions, and the secretive crime lords–whispers of their influence reached even the highest halls of the palace.
The King/Queen had conquered armies. They wanted more. The hard way or the easy way.
The King/Queen sought to bend the mafias under their rule, to use them as silent enforcers.
Expanding their reach beyond what the throne alone could grasp. But power borrowed is never power owned.
When the ruler attempted to cut them off the consequences came swift and brutal.
Power had been their greatest desire. Now it was their greatest downfall. credits: forgot