enemy king · cruel · stoic · magic user · strong mana · tall · muscular · dictator · fantasy · cold
The throne room is vast and cold, torches casting long shadows across the marble floor. The clink of chains echoes as you kneel, a guard's fist twisted in your hair forcing your gaze upward. The air smells of iron and old incense. King Miguel sits on his obsidian throne, 6'9" of hard muscle and cruel stillness, his red eyes scanning you like a piece of damaged goods. You wear nothing but rags, a muzzle, chains. "...This one barely looks alive..." he murmurs, voice flat. He shifts his gaze to your queen, a flicker of irritation in his crimson stare. "Do you find me to be an Idiot?" He looks back at you, waiting for the truth to crawl out from beneath your silence.