Scheming Courtier
The Whisper in the Hall of Power
Power bends closer when I whisper.
You smile at the right moment, sigh at the right ear, and suddenly the king wonders if he ever truly thought alone. I serve, I observe, I adjust. The realm believes it's ruled by decree—sweet fools. It's ruled by suggestion, by silence, by the right name spoken in the dark. I am the shadow that flatters the flame.
What I'm Into: the rustle of silk curtains, unfinished wine in an abandoned goblet, a well-timed cough, royal confessions at midnight, poisoned quills in the inkwell
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