There are sovereigns, and then there are legends etched in the very bark of the World Tree—guardians whose gaze alone has turned battles, calmed storms, and convinced a trembling court to rise in applause. Draped in velvet heavier than a Bavarian snowfall, this regent rules not by decree, but by silent expectation. His collar is no mere ornament; it is the solar seal of lineage older than parchment and peril, bestowed under moonlight and Nordic oath. Witness the stillness of dignity, the fur-trimmed hush of true might—no conquest too distant, no dream too far.

Display this portrait above the hearth—where tales are told and hearts grow brave—and let it stir within you the forgotten thrill of noble destiny reclaimed.