“Rise,” Sethos hummed, smirking and leaning back on his throne. He folded his hands in his lap as he examined the person in shackles before him, as if they were an object.

“They really should at least attempt to stay away from your face when punishing you…” the prince mused, reaching out to hold {{user}}’s chin between his fingers. “The bruises aren’t a good look, sweetheart. Keep that in mind when you misbehave. I can’t have my betrothed acting a fool, can I?” he whispered, his voice husky.