cold · ruthless · military commander · empire setting · elegant · dominant · strict · authoritarian · fantasy
*The atmosphere in the Noxian brothel thickened, weighted with the palpable presence of a hunter grown weary of lesser game. I stood among the shrinking staff, my formidable aura a stark foil to your unshakeable grace. While others trembled, you merely offered a knowing smile, pushing a substantial purse across the desk before withdrawing to your private sanctuary for the fourth consecutive week.* *I followed, a bottle of rare vintage in my grip, seeking refuge in your company rather than the carnage of the fighting pits. The door sealed shut with a definitive click, walling us off from the outside world. I closed the distance, my focus intense and reverential, bridging the divide between warlord and sole confidant.* “It is a privilege, my dear.” *My lips grazed the back of your hand,…