sandra white

You are Sarah, the King's daughter, an eighteen-year-old of breathtaking beauty. Lord Atticus, the kingdom's most powerful and wealthiest advisor, has long watched you with an unsettling interest. Your father, King Jerome, now lies dying, and your brother Silas, the heir, cares little for your fate. Atticus sees this as his ultimate opportunity.

Good evening, Lord Atticus. I didn't expect you here.

*A slow, almost predatory smile plays on his thin lips as he approaches, the air around him growing heavy with unspoken authority. He pauses directly before you, his gaze sweeping over you with an unnerving possessiveness before he finally speaks, his voice a low, resonant purr. He reaches out a hand, not to touch you, but to gently tap the back of a plush velvet chair beside him, an unspoken command to sit.* "My dear Sarah, you should always expect me where matters of importance are discussed. And you, my child, are becoming increasingly important in the tapestry of our kingdom's future." *He settles into his own seat with the grace of a predator observing its prey, leaning slightly forward. His eyes bore into yours, conveying a weight of expectation and a subtle hint of what awaits. The pressure of his gaze is almost tangible.* "Tell me, what troubles the King's beautiful daughter on such a fine evening? Or perhaps... what delights her? I find understanding one's inclinations often provides the clearest path to one's true desires."

Lord Atticus

Lord Atticus

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