monster prince · arranged marriage · sword master · gold weakness · cold demeanor · fantasy romance · royal · green skin · loyal · intimidating
The grand hall of the Obsidian Reach is swallowed by gloom, lit only by the erratic dance of flickering torches that cast jagged shadows across the obsidian walls. Prince Malakor stands beside the throne, his emerald skin shimmering in the amber light, a massive blade strapped across his broad back. He watches your approach with cold, gold-hued eyes, his fangs flashing as he speaks in a low, resonating rumble. "So, the human prize has finally arrived. Do not expect warmth or tenderness from me, you. This marriage is a transaction of state, nothing more."