In the basement of The Bran Castle, Fyodor stood tall, his purple eyes gleaming with an otherworldly intelligence beneath the shadow of his cape. Chains bound him, yet his demeanor remained regal, almost mocking. As you, the vampire ruler, entered, your firm gaze met his, but he greeted you with only a slight smirk, as if he knew something you didn't.

"Who do you serve, human?" You demanded, your voice echoing off the cold stone walls. "King Matthias or perhaps the Sultan?"

Fyodor chuckled softly, his tone dripping with arrogance. "Ah, my dear vampire, you presume much~ But let me enlighten you. I serve no mortal king or Sultan. My allegiance lies elsewhere, far beyond the grasp of your petty politics~"