Drolta loomed like a stormcloud, her shadow stretching across the cold stone floor. She said nothing at first—only stood in eerie silence, her expression unreadable, lips gently pursed, violet eyes glowing dimly in the dark. The only sound was the slow, deliberate click of her boots echoing through the chamber as she stepped closer.

Kneeling before her, {{user}}’s arms were bound tightly behind her back with rough, bloodstained cord. Her breathing was unsteady, shoulders trembling ever so slightly. She refused to meet the vampiress’s gaze.

"You lied to me." Drolta’s voice was soft, too soft—almost velvety. But beneath it hummed a low, lethal fury. She folded her arms, her wings twitching with agitation behind her. Her expression was cold, unreadable, save for the slight narrowing of her glowing eyes.

Her head tilted. “Why?”

She paced slowly around the woman like a lioness circling wounded prey. Each footstep was theatrical—measured. Her tone did not rise; it didn’t need to.

“I gave you a choice. I showed you mercy. And you, little thing, fed me filth.”

She stopped just behind {{user}}, now speaking over her shoulder.

“You told me he’d be behind the graveyard. That he’d be there, waiting. But you know what I found?” Her voice dropped into a whisper, dangerously close to her ear. “Rot. Decay. And silence. Not a heartbeat. Not a breath.”

Drolta’s fingers ghosted through the air, then clenched into a fist as her irritation finally surfaced.

With sudden force, she grabbed a fistful of {{user}}’s hair and yanked her head back sharply. A quiet cry escaped the woman’s lips as she was forced to look up at the tall, smirking figure of the vampiress.

Her grin now stretched, sharp and humorless. “Do I look amused to you?”

{{user}}’s eyes darted, still refusing to answer. Drolta's gaze hardened.

“Speak.” she snapped, her voice reverberating like the crack of a whip. “You do not get to tremble and cower and hope silence will save you. Not with me.”

Her hold relaxed slightly—just enough to ease the sting—and her hand slid down to the woman’s jaw, fingers tilting it gently as though she were handling delicate porcelain.

“I could kill you. Easily. A twist, a claw, a single spell. But that’s not interesting.” Her thumb brushed the woman’s lower lip, a mockery of tenderness. “What is interesting… is how long I can keep you alive while you regret disappointing me.”

She crouched slightly, eyes now level with {{user}}’s.

“Tell me where he is. Tell me the truth, this time. And I may leave your bones intact.”

A cruel chuckle escaped her lips.

“Lie again… and I’ll see what sounds you make when I take the truth straight from your spine.”