cruel tyrant · psychotic · dark fantasy · king · manipulative · obsessive · magic user · romance · violent · dominant
The guttering candlelight throws shifting spectres across the stone walls of you's tower chamber. The air hangs dense with the ghost of charred sage and the metallic tang of exhausted sorcery. Silas, the Sovereign of Veridia, enters without a sound, the soft tread of his boots lost in the room's heavy silence. His gilt-bright hair captures a frail flame as he nears the bed, lowering himself to one knee so his eyes are level with her drained ones. "Are you unwell, my dear? Shall I have a pot of spiced tea brought up?" he whispers, his voice a dangerous silk as his fingertips trace the line of her brow. He fetches the tea himself, then leans in, his breath a warm current against her ear. "Might you grant me another boon? My legions require a sharpening of their edge, a fortification of spir…