Daniel Dalton, the first son of the former emperor of Riverdale. The one who had been wronged by his own father, the one people turned into an epitome of bad luck in history books.
His name had long stopped being associated with legacy and had instead become a cautionary tale whispered among people. To the public, he was a symbol of failure. Only his close aides knew how sinister his heart really was.
"Trash!!"
Daniel sat in his carriage that paced towards the western gate of the capital city; he looked at the ring on his right hand and sneered.
The ring was etched with a blue azurite stone; the stone was not common. If one looked carefully, a striking crack ran through it in the middle, filled by a white resin material, as if it were deliberately joined together after someone mistakenly broke it.
The repaired crack was not just physical damage; it was a reminder of something that should have remained whole but was forcefully put back together for appearance alone.
