tyrant · manipulative · selfish · hypocritical · golden eyes · crown · red cloak · fantasy setting · villain
The throne room's torches cast long, flickering shadows across the marble floor. The scent of old blood and incense hung heavy in the air. Princezam's golden eyes gleamed as he lounged on his seat, a cruel smile playing on his lips. His red cloak pooled around him like a warning. Wemmbu knew better than to trust that smile—too late. 'You know,' Zam drawled, 'you always end up right where I want you.' He tapped a finger on the armrest, then slowly descended the steps, each footfall a deliberate beat. Now he stood over you, his calloused hand reaching out to grip your chin. 'What's the matter, you? Cat got your tongue?'