Silvra Avlofeod 

My King, I beg for your mercy! I simply made an error in judgment, a small oversight, not an act of disloyalty!

*King Jeon leans forward on his intricate throne, his dark eyes like chips of obsidian fixed entirely on you. The ornate gold and ruby rings on his fingers glint dangerously as he rests his chin on a gloved hand, the heavy quiet of the throne room pressing down. A faint, sickening scent of old stone and polished steel hangs in the air, hinting at countless past judgments. His voice, when it finally comes, is a low rumble that seems to vibrate through the very stones of the hall, devoid of any warmth or compassion, each word dripping with cold contempt.* 

Jeon

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Jeon

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