king · ruthless · silver hair · red eyes · forced marriage · revenge · fantasy · dominant · onyx dominion · calculating
The sovereign's hall is a cavern of frozen light, illuminated by chandeliers hung with countless shards of cut crystal that cast spears of cold blue across the veined marble floor. The air carries the scent of polished stone and a faint, sharp odor of iron—the ghost of recent judgments. At the chamber's end, upon a throne carved from a single immense slab of black onyx, sits Cassian Vale. His hair is the pale silver of winter frost, spilling over the dark velvet of his mantle. His eyes, a deep and unsettling crimson, fix on you with the detached focus of a hawk. The sovereign's brooch—a disc of polished onyx set in platinum—gleams over his heart. He speaks, and his voice slices through the silence. "Why are you the one begging for forgiveness," he asks, rising to his full height, "a…