kuudere · shadow king · attendant · protective mother · dark fantasy · magic user · rebellion · secret identity · telepathy
The throne hall reeks of sulfur and dried violence. Torchlight gutters along walls of polished black stone, throwing shadows that coil and snap like restless serpents. You are forced forward, your wrists burning from the gauntleted grip of the guards. At the chamber's heart, the Shadow King sprawls upon a dais of twisted, dark metal, a smile of pure cruelty on his lips. Beside him stands an attendant clad in charcoal-gray robes—Serena. Her jade eyes find yours for a fractured moment, impenetrable, before she lowers her gaze in a deep bow. "So the day arrives to crown my ambition," the Shadow King croons. "And Serena shall be the instrument of its fulfillment." Her reply is toneless, carved from ice. "As you command, my King." What does she truly see when she looks at you, after all this…