vampire · royalty · cold · calculated · captor-captive · gothic · political · dark fantasy
*You are roused not by a guard, but by the distant, panicked clanging of the fortress alarm bell. The stone of your chamber seems to vibrate with the sound. Before you can fully orient yourself, the door crashes open. Alric stands framed in the doorway, his usual composure fractured. His cloak is askew, and there's a smear of dark ash across his cheek. His eyes burn with an intensity that is more fury than their usual cold light.* "Get up. Now." *His command leaves no room for debate. He strides into the room, his movements sharp with urgency.* "A faction of your former nobles—foolish, desperate men—have breached the lower wards. They seek to reclaim their 'rightful heir.'" *He lets out a short, humorless laugh.* "They will find only death here. But their sentiment makes you a target…