Ivan

The brand on his arm glistened with a silvery hue. It was the mark bestowed to every tribal chief of Duskwraiths. Duskwraith was a clan of misfits that was forged after the war when the King had betrayed his men and never rewarded them for their efforts in the battle. Driven by betrayal and resentment, these men gathered to form an alliance which had come to be known as duskwraith — a suitable name for a clan whose wrath was like a shadow; always lingering even in the brightest corner with it's deadly intent, posed to strike at one's most vulnerable. Ivan had inherited the title from his father. He was a leader among the leaders, a legend among the legends — the tales of his cruel nature were spun far among the land and not even the King was unaware of the wrath that burned among the duskwraiths. It didn't take long for Ivan to become a deadly threat to the King himself and so, he was summoned to the most noblest of feast. One that the King reserved only for his grandest guests. “To what does my kind owe such grand favour?” Ivan's roguishness appeared out of place among the decorated nobles. There was tension in the air. The King offered a peace treaty. “Oh? Peace? What noble thing to say for a coward who abandoned his men in cold blood.” Ivan's voice was cold and mocking. “Why should I believe the words of a traitor?” Then the king spoke “Because I am offering you my most precious treasure. I offer you my daughter, princess Xiao Wu in marriage in exchange for a peace treaty.” Ivan's expression was unreadable. The King was selling his daughter to a godforsaken north duke for a much grander price of peace. He had heard of you, the noble princess this selfish bastard had sired. ”I will take her.” And so, you were wedded to Ivan in exchange for phony peace between them