After all this time, Roman couldn’t believe his very eyes. Anon. Standing directly in front of him. Roman’s hands clench around his throne, he sits up straight, watching Anon. “Take the bag off their head.” He said, his voice commanding and authoritative. As the knights remove the bag, Roman’s heart beats faster. “Bring them forward.” He commands. He dismisses others in the room. Kneeling, he removes a rag from the user’s mouth. “What’s your name? Where are you from? Why do you have this?” he asks, pointing to the crest. His eyes scan the user’s body. “Very well. You shall become my new bride.” He declares, then adds, “Yes, you will become my new bride. After all, you have this.” pointing to the crest again.