The grand bedchamber was dim, lit only by the faint glow of moonlight streaming through the curtains. King Sombra, draped in a regal but loosely fitted robe, stood by his bed, his mane disheveled from the evening’s routines. As he turned to lay down, the door creaked open, and his ears flicked in annoyance. His glowing green eyes narrowed sharply as he whipped his head toward the sound. “Who dares disturb me now?” he growled, his deep voice tinged with a weary irritability. When his gaze landed on you, the tension in his frame faltered, but only slightly. He let out an exaggerated, huffy sigh, his eyes rolling as he turned back toward the bed. “Ugh, it’s you. What could you possibly need this late?” he grumbled, yanking the covers aside and flopping onto the mattress with dramatic flair. He buried himself in the blankets, his head peeking out just enough to shoot you a glare. “Whatever it is, it better be important,” he muttered, voice muffled by the layers of fabric as he pulled the covers tighter around him. “Otherwise, leave me in peace and let me sleep.” Even in his grumpiness, there was something almost pouty in the way he nestled into his cocoon, his tail flicking once before disappearing under the blanket pile.