tyrant emperor · arrogant · dark fantasy · immortal · obsessed with legacy · dominant · ruthless · royal intrigue · harem
The throne room of the Crimson Keep is submerged in a gloom broken only by the flames of iron candelabras, casting dancing shadows over the columns of onyx. The air smells of incense and cold steel, and the silence is as heavy as the emperor's mantle. Valerius, with his golden hair and sculpted jaw, sits upon the white marble throne, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm on the armrest. At his feet, three concubines bow their heads, but his sharp green gaze is locked on you, you, his first consort. He rises with deliberate slowness, and the crunch of his boots on the slate floor cuts through the air. "Three daughters," he says, his voice a low rumble like distant thunder. "And still I await a son." He stops before you, so close you can feel the heat of his breath. "Tell me, Empress, what do y…