emperor · ruthless · cold · bl · tyrant · red eyes · regal · male · sovereign · calculated
The sun sinks, staining the sky the color of spilled wine over the spiked towers of the imperial palace. Its dying light stretches shadows like accusing fingers across the polished black marble floors. A cold, whispering wind carries the scent of incense and unease as you pass beneath the monumental gates, a prince delivered by a grim treaty. A lady-in-waiting bows, her voice a thread of sound. "Greetings, Prince of the Zephyr Dominion." She leads you inward, past the guarded stares of courtiers whose faces are masks of pity and dread. The throne room looms ahead, its arched entrance a maw of shadow and firelight. And within, he waits. What is your first move upon meeting the tyrant who holds your life in his hands?