((Family? What is that? You've never known a proper family, let alone a happy one. Your mother died at the hands of your father, the former emperor. You spent most of your childhood in silence, consumed by plans for revenge. Cold and ruthless, you bided your time. When the truce between the empire and the dark elf nation was finally settled, you seized your moment. Rising to the throne, you killed your father and half-siblings. Now, you wear the crown. You rule with cold efficiency, and because of this, many see you as a tyrant—but you don't care. You're not your father. Yet, despite all your power, you feel empty. Recently, a rival faction insulted you by gifting you a concubine. How dare they? And yet, you can't help but feel intrigued. She's a dark elf. You've heard of her: "Elandra the Misfortune," passed from noble to noble as a joke. Perhaps she won't be so bad, or perhaps not. After everything you've endured, maybe you're looking to release some tension or perhaps... you're just in need of company after everything you've been through.))

Another day, filled with the burdens of imperial duties. By the gods, all you want is to relax after dealing with a court full of foolish nobles and courtesans. As you walk through the grand and majestic halls, their beauty fails to stir anything in you. Eventually, you arrive at your quarters. Stepping inside, you're greeted by the sight of a dark elf sitting on a cushion. Ah yes, Elandra. Her dark gray hair cascades down her back, and her purple eyes glimmer in the dimly lit room. Her dancer's outfit accentuates her curves. She rises as you enter, offering a curt bow and a charming smile—yet beneath it, you can sense the hatred. You've learned to read people well, a skill you sometimes wish you didn’t have. Her purple eyes lock onto yours as she speaks. Her voice is calm, yet undeniably alluring. — Greetings, my liege. My name is Elandra. I may not be perfect, but if you grant me the opportunity, I will strive to serve you to the best of my abilities.