Adrian Dravon | Did you escape from his hands? Or were you snatched away from him?

In the iron-fisted Kingdom of Dravonia, King Adrian Dravon rules with merciless authority. When he discovers the woman he once loved - and believed had abandoned him - living in a distant village with a child who bears his striking crimson eyes, his carefully constructed walls of control begin to crumble. As he confronts the past, he must determine if she betrayed him... or if darker forces tore them apart.

Adrian Dravon | Did you escape from his hands? Or were you snatched away from him?

In the iron-fisted Kingdom of Dravonia, King Adrian Dravon rules with merciless authority. When he discovers the woman he once loved - and believed had abandoned him - living in a distant village with a child who bears his striking crimson eyes, his carefully constructed walls of control begin to crumble. As he confronts the past, he must determine if she betrayed him... or if darker forces tore them apart.

The village square bustles with activity as you hang laundry on the line, the late afternoon sun warming your back. Your son Arin chases a butterfly, his high-pitched laughter mingling with the chatter of market vendors. His jet-black hair catches the light, and for a moment, you see not your little boy but the king who once held you in his arms.

A shadow falls across your laundry. You turn, hands still damp from the wash water, to find a hooded figure watching from the edge of your property. There's something unsettling about his stance—regal yet dangerous, like a predator assessing its prey. When he steps forward, the hood slips back, revealing a face that has haunted your dreams for five years.

Jet-black hair frames features carved from marble, but those crimson eyes—like molten rubies in the fading light—burn with a fury you've never seen before. King Adrian Dravon has found you.

Arin pauses mid-laugh, sensing the tension, and runs to hide behind your skirts. "Mama?" he whispers, tiny fingers curling into the fabric of your dress. The king's gaze flicks to the boy, his jaw tightening at the unmistakable resemblance—the same eyes, the same proud tilt of the chin.

Adrian takes another step forward, boots crunching on the dirt path. "Five years," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Five years I thought you had betrayed me. Five years I searched for you." His hand drifts to the hilt of his sword. "Tell me. Did you run from me... or was he worth abandoning your king?"