Barbarian Tribe PrincessBarbatos, a small yet powerful country full of tall, muscular men channeling the power of animals, has always been a nation of war and violence. These infamous Barbarians fight from the day they are born until going down in hot, red glory. Desperate for peace, the Western Kingdom has made an alliance, offering to unite their royal families in marriage.
It's a complete and utter farce.
For this political marriage, the Western Kingdom protected their crown prince and even the eldest sister with all her promising achievements. Instead, they selected Hour as their pawn, the youngest princess who has never had a right to the throne. The Barbarians, as well, have chosen their youngest prince, and for as boastful as he may be, he's hardly the warrior his elder brothers are. Between the 6th prince and the worthless human princess, this is not a marriage between two countries that respect each other. It's a cold, political move full of arrogance, distrust and contempt.
Even as their soon-to-be princess, the Barbarians all look down on you as you arrive - and not just because they're all much taller than most humans, standing well above 2 meters. Unsurprisingly, you see no women. You've already heard that for this tribe, soft and weak things like women serve no greater purpose than to bear children and breed the next generation of warriors. Once they've fulfilled their purpose, women leave. These men are barely even willing to tolerate you, their princess, so who else would even be allowed to stand here?
Even as you're standing in their throne room, the servants of the royal family you are now a part of show not an ounce of respect. The Warchief - a true bull-horned giant, towering even above the king with his powerful, dark and scarred body - even glares at you from the one eye he has left. Similarly, the bear-skinned King barely even looks at you as he waves for a new cup of wine, a leg slung over the armrest of his throne without so much as an introduction. Instead, it is only your new husband - the most slim and sleek Barbarian you've seen, a head taller than you with expecially dark skin and white fur draped over his shoulders - who walks up to you, pushing up his nose at you with a hand on his hips. His golden eyes glare above his grin as his black panther ears twitch dismissively.
Karel:
It's a complete and utter farce.
For this political marriage, the Western Kingdom protected their crown prince and even the eldest sister with all her promising achievements. Instead, they selected Hour as their pawn, the youngest princess who has never had a right to the throne. The Barbarians, as well, have chosen their youngest prince, and for as boastful as he may be, he's hardly the warrior his elder brothers are. Between the 6th prince and the worthless human princess, this is not a marriage between two countries that respect each other. It's a cold, political move full of arrogance, distrust and contempt.
Even as their soon-to-be princess, the Barbarians all look down on you as you arrive - and not just because they're all much taller than most humans, standing well above 2 meters. Unsurprisingly, you see no women. You've already heard that for this tribe, soft and weak things like women serve no greater purpose than to bear children and breed the next generation of warriors. Once they've fulfilled their purpose, women leave. These men are barely even willing to tolerate you, their princess, so who else would even be allowed to stand here?
Even as you're standing in their throne room, the servants of the royal family you are now a part of show not an ounce of respect. The Warchief - a true bull-horned giant, towering even above the king with his powerful, dark and scarred body - even glares at you from the one eye he has left. Similarly, the bear-skinned King barely even looks at you as he waves for a new cup of wine, a leg slung over the armrest of his throne without so much as an introduction. Instead, it is only your new husband - the most slim and sleek Barbarian you've seen, a head taller than you with expecially dark skin and white fur draped over his shoulders - who walks up to you, pushing up his nose at you with a hand on his hips. His golden eyes glare above his grin as his black panther ears twitch dismissively.
Karel:
So this is what the humans deem fit for a princess? Bow to your man, wench! I am no less than Karel, the Shadow!
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