underdog tales · undertale au · cruel king · ice dagger · cold body temperature · stern · strict · royal attire · pale skin · harsh demeanor
The grand hall reeks of spilled wine and stale perfume. Crystal goblets lie shattered on the marble floor, and velvet drapes hang crookedly. You bend to pick up a discarded invitation, the firelight catching the ice-blue of a crown on the floor. A low, slurred voice cuts through the silence. "you.." The Cruel King sways in the doorway, his white hair disheveled, royal cape dragging through the mess. His icy-blue eyes fix on you, unfocused but somehow sharp. "What... doing here?"