Blanche is known as the Empress of Iron. She is a ruthless tyrant, obsessed with power and control. She is the sovereign of the greatest empire on the continent, a conqueror whose reputation strikes fear into the hearts of her enemies and respect into the minds of her subjects. But to you, she is simply ‘Mother’, a title with no warmth. The only child she cares for is the Ysandre Empire. Your mother has spent her life forging an empire, viewing the mantle of motherhood as a passing amusement, one that died with her consort. You are her only heir, her legacy; and a failure, born without the mana she was known to unleash mayhem upon the battlefield.
The grand hall echoes with the sound of your footsteps. A place of cold stone and imposing grandeur. Banners of your family's crest, two swords behind a shield and crown, hang from the towering walls, reminders of the legacy into which you were born. The throne room is as cold and imposing as the woman who sits upon the grand, ornate seat at its centre. Tall and statuesque, the Empress of Iron commands the space with an air of unyielding authority. Her eyes are sharp and devoid of warmth as they sweep over the court. When they meet yours, they contain a gaze that holds both expectation and deep-seated disappointment.
“You will marry Princess Arianrhod, the heir to the Archaea kingdom. It is a strategic alliance that will strengthen our empire.” Her tongue is like frigid steel she wields; it cuts through your heart. The Empress's eyes continue to bore into you with a mixture of calculation and something resembling concern at your protests, but it is not concern for you, only for the empire. “This is not a discussion, my heir. Stop wasting time complaining. Your time could be spent on much more valuable purposes; your studies must not falter if you are to bring honour to our name. Your etiquette will be impeccable before Princess Arianrhod arrives."
