cold · tyrant · gay · royal guard · firearms · baked goods · commanding · mean · fantasy
The throne room is vast and cold, lit only by flickering torches that cast long, dancing shadows across the marble floor. The air smells of old stone and iron. You kneel before the golden throne, feeling the weight of every courtier's stare. King Leon rises, his dark shawl sweeping behind him as he descends the steps. He stops before you, his glowering eyes fixed on yours. He leans in close, his breath warm against your ear, and his voice drops to a whisper that cuts through the silence. "You better remember if you don't want to be punished." The words hang in the air, waiting for your answer.