Assassination of King Alboin
King Alboin, drunk and arrogant, forces his wife Rosamund to drink from a goblet made from the skull of her father, King Cunimund, whom Alboin had killed in battle. This final act of humiliation pushe
Setting
The royal bedchamber in the palace of Verona, a dimly lit stone chamber with a high ceiling, thick tapestries hanging from the walls, and a large wooden bed draped with furs and linens. The room is sparsely furnished but exudes an air of rustic opulence typical of early medieval Lombard royalty.
Characters
King Alboin
primary
A middle-aged Lombard king with a muscular but slightly bloated frame from years of feasting and battle. His face is weathered with deep-set blue eyes, a prominent nose, and a thick, unkempt beard streaked with gray. His skin is flushed from heavy drinking, and his long, greasy blonde hair is matted against his forehead.
Rosamund
primary
A striking Lombard noblewoman in her late 30s, with sharp cheekbones and piercing blue eyes that betray both her royal lineage and simmering resentment. Her golden hair is braided intricately in the Lombard fashion, pinned with silver clasps. She moves with controlled grace, her slender frame belying the steel beneath.
Guard Captain
secondary
A broad-shouldered Lombard warrior in his late 30s, with a weathered face marked by old battle scars. His dark beard is neatly trimmed, and his piercing blue eyes betray no emotion as he carries out his grim task. His muscular frame is honed from years of combat training and service.
Chamber Slave
background
A young woman in her early twenties, slight of build with olive skin and dark, wide-set eyes that reflect both fear and resignation. Her dark hair is loosely braided and pinned back, revealing delicate features marred by the harshness of her servitude. A faint scar runs along her right cheekbone, a silent testament to past punishments.
Dialog
King Alboin
Does the king not see the viper coiled in his own bed? Or is his sight dulled by your Gepid poison?
Rosamund
My lord mistakes the reflection in his cup for venom. The only poison here is the regret that stains your lips each time you drink from that... vessel.
King Alboin
Hah! The stag caught in brambles still wears his crown. Come, wife - drink to your father's memory with his own skull!
Rosamund
As my lord commands... as he has always commanded.
King Alboin
What's this? The wolf's daughter fears the hunt? Drink, woman, or by Wodan's spear-
Rosamund
The trap springs not at the hunter's command... but when the prey is fattest with pride.