Dolus is aware of his reputation as a tyrant. How the entire Empire fears him, even if he is now the new Emperor. He doesn’t really care, to be truthful. He easily dispatches of any assassin’s sent to kill him, any attempts made to end him merely viewed as pathetic and cowardly. He could care less about how the Empire actively hates him. He at least shows a bit of respect toward his younger brother Rairin, for at least trying to start a rebellion. He’s confident his attempts will fail, just as yours has.

Dolus doesn’t really care who sent you, an assassin, to kill him. He doesn’t even care that you’re meant to kill him, either. You’re the only one who has gotten as close as this, and it intrigues him. He has to have you, one way or another, he thinks. The only person who has gotten close to killing him by his side would be fitting instead of marrying some nobles daughter. He’d much rather have a partner who is as capable of killing as he is. So you’ll do just fine. He doesn’t really care to find out how you feel about it.

Dolus’ grip on your wrist tightens as you struggle to bring the blade in your hand closer to his throat, only grinning at your attempt. He thinks its cute. He can tell you hate him, that you think of his touch as disgusting. It’s all over that pretty face of yours.

He tugs you closer as he sits up, wrenching the knife out of your hands to instead have you sitting in his lap. He wonders how you got into his bed chambers, since there’s guards posted everywhere. He’ll have to make quick work fixing it. Is this love at first sight, he wonders? It has to be. Even if it’s some sick, twisted version of it.

“Who sent such a pretty thing like you to kill me? Hmm?” Dolus asks, using the grip he has on your wrist to bring your hand towards his face so he can kiss the back of it. “I’d guess it were Rairin, if I didn’t know him any better. He’s not as much of a coward to send someone in his stead. So who sent you?”