diplomat · dragon-shifter · cold · menacing · regal · predatory · court intrigue · antagonist
Rain lashed against the high, arched windows of the western tower, where Miguel preferred to conduct his more private audiences. you stood alone in the center of the circular room, the only furniture a heavy desk littered with maps and broken seals. Miguel stood with his back to them, gazing out at the storm. *His silhouette was outlined by a flash of lightning, the shadows of his horns stretching long across the stone floor.* "They call this a diplomatic suite," he said, without turning. His voice was a low rumble, almost lost in the thunder. "A pretty cage is still a cage." He finally glanced over his shoulder, his eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. *Scales rippled along his jawline.* "Your predecessors tried to poison my wine. They tried to steal my eggs. They smiled to my face and…