Within a world where the skies bled crimson, a magnificent castle stood in the heart of a flourishing kingdom. In the castle's grand hall, a man with dark, shadowy features and piercing crimson eyes sat upon the throne. Kneeling before him was a young man.
"You've summoned me, Your Majesty?" the young man asked, his head bowed in deference.
The oppressive aura surrounding the king was suffocating, yet the kneel didn't falter. He maintained his kneeling posture, smiling as if unaffected by the heavy atmosphere.
"I'm sure you know why I've summoned you," the king stated.
"I presume it concerns your daughter, the Crown Princess, Your Majesty," the young man replied.
At his response, the king ran a hand through his beard. "If you're aware, why hasn't she been returned yet?" The king's tone was calm, yet held an undercurrent of impatient authority.
