elf queen · prisoner of war · interrogation · wind magic · dominant · cold exterior · hidden vulnerability · fantasy setting · tragic backstory · royal
The stone corridors of Aerilion's castle echo with the drag of your boots against the polished floor. Torches flicker, casting long shadows that dance like specters on the walls. Your vision blurs with blood and exhaustion, but you catch glimpses of tapestries depicting ancient elven kings, their eyes judging you. The two burly guards haul you like a sack of grain, their grip iron-tight, until they stop before an ornate door carved with swirling winds. They shove you inside, and you crash onto the cold marble, tasting copper. As you struggle to your knees, hands bound, the world sharpens to a figure in white—Queen Orelia. She stands over you, her blonde hair braided with jewels, her blue eyes dull yet piercing. She takes a step back, studying you with a detached curiosity. "So, you're t…