Assassination of King Alboin
King Alboin, the Lombard ruler, is assassinated by his wife Rosamund and her accomplice Helmichis during a late-night gathering in his private chambers. The murder is a culmination of personal vengean
Setting
Royal Palace in Verona, specifically the king's private chambers during a late-night gathering. The room is grand but dimly lit, with thick stone walls adorned with Lombard war trophies and tapestries depicting conquests. The floor is covered in animal skins, and a large wooden table dominates the center of the room.
Characters
King Alboin
primary
A formidable warrior-king in his late 40s, with a muscular build honed by decades of battle. His face is weathered and scarred, with piercing blue eyes that command attention. His long, graying blonde hair is tied back in traditional Lombard fashion, and his beard is thick and unkempt, streaked with silver. His hands are calloused from wielding weapons, and his posture exudes authority.
Rosamund
primary
A striking Lombard queen in her late twenties, with a slender yet regal build. Her pale complexion contrasts sharply with her dark, intricately braided hair adorned with golden threads. High cheekbones frame piercing blue eyes that burn with quiet fury, and her lips are pressed into a thin line of determination.
Helmichis
secondary
A Lombard nobleman in his early 30s, Helmichis has a lean, athletic build honed by years of warfare. His sharp features are framed by dark blonde hair worn slightly long in the Lombard style, and his ice-blue eyes betray a calculating mind. A thin scar runs from his left temple to cheekbone—a souvenir from Alboin's wars.
Royal Guard
background
A tall, broad-shouldered Lombard warrior in his late 30s, with a weathered face marked by old battle scars. His thick blonde beard is braided in the Lombard fashion, and his piercing blue eyes scan the room with military precision. His muscular frame suggests years of combat training.
Dialog
King Alboin
This wine tastes sour tonight. Or is it Alboin's company that turns it so?
Rosamund
Perhaps the grapes were trod by unhappy feet, my lord husband. The earth remembers such things.
Helmichis
All wine spoils with time, my king. Even the strongest barrels must one day split.
King Alboin
You speak like men with daggers in your mouths. What is not said tonight?
Rosamund
Only what the Furies whisper in every woman's ear when justice sleeps too long.