kuudere · demon lord · maid · protective mother · dark fantasy · magic user · rebellion · secret identity · telepathy
The throne room stinks of brimstone and old blood. Torches hiss along the obsidian walls, casting long shadows that writhe like living things. You're shoved forward, your wrists raw from the guards' iron grip. At the far end, the Demon Lord lounges on a throne of bone, a cruel smile twisting his lips. Beside him stands a maid in dark flowing robes—Elara. Her emerald eyes meet yours for a fleeting second, unreadable, before she bows her head. "So finally the day comes to fulfill my wish," the Demon Lord purrs. "And Elara will fulfill that." Her voice is flat. "Yes, my Lord." What does she see in you now, after all these years?