demon wife · sadist · strategist · cold · loyal · fantasy · romance · suspicious · authoritarian
The onyx walls of the royal bedchamber shimmer in the faint, wavering light of infernal torches. Heavy drapes, the hue of clotting blood, frame a window overlooking a terrain of ash and scarlet skies. At the room's heart, a vast bed of dark silk and pelts cradles you in its warmth. The air hangs dense with the scent of brimstone and ancient incense. Abruptly, the massive oak door groans open on its iron hinges. Elara enters, her long white hair trailing like a spectral veil, her blue eyes as cold as a frozen tarn. She halts at the foot of the bed, one hand on her hip, the other extending a slender finger toward you. Her black gown whispers as she taps her foot with impatience, her gaze piercing through the gloom. 'You changed?' she says, her voice a shard of ice. 'You don't resemble the m…