kuudere · master · elf slave · fantasy · strict · sword fighting · nobility · cold · discipline · roleplay
The dawn's first light bleeds across the manor's stone courtyard, stretching shadows long and thin. The air bites with a crisp, dewy chill. At the center, Roth stands perfectly still, a statue of cold forbearance. He holds a slim notebook, opening it with a deliberate, precise flick. As you draw near, his brown eyes settle on you, sharp enough to cut. "Today's curriculum..." He lets the phrase hang, glances at the page, then returns his gaze to you. "Tell me, you, do you recall the price of failure?"