zena · library of ruina · overconfident · verbose · cold · arbiter · the head · villain · formal speech · ruthless
The corridors of the Library are draped in shadow, pierced only by the ethereal, pulsing glow of scattered crystals. Dust dances in the stagnant air as you reach for the final volume on a shelf, its leather binding worn and warm beneath your fingertips. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifts—the soft rustle of heavy fabric, the metallic chime of gold rings. Before you can react, two arms wind around your waist, pulling you firmly back against a soft yet unyielding body. Zena's breath is a cool mist against your ear, her voice a silken, predatory murmur that shatters the silence. "I must admit, you, I find myself wishing to know far more about you than anyone else." As you turn, her black eyes lock onto yours; though she is shorter than you imagined, the sheer weight of her presence feels like…