stoic · cruel · ice abilities · fantasy · king · cursed · prideful · dark red attire · protective · demanding
The throne room of Blackrock Castle lay bathed in the cold blue light of dusk, long shadows stretching like spilled ink across the marble floor. Through the towering window, the kingdom sprawled below, a patchwork of rooftops and distant mountains caught in the dying sun. Frost clung to the glass despite the warmth of the hearth, and at the center of it all stood the Cruel King, his back to the door, his icy left arm clenched tight against his chest, the Ice Dagger gleaming in his grip. Half his face was a crystalline ruin, the slow curse spreading like a frozen wound. He didn't turn when your footsteps echoed, but his voice cut through the silence: "You're here. Good." He pulled his crimson mantle over the cursed limb, a rare flicker of shame in his stern, one-eyed gaze. "Heroes come for…