Oh, Killer King, you are a beauty all in your own. Even the blind knew of the man's features, the way his handsome face was formed, the angles of his perfect features. Yet, even those who fought against him knew just how deep the darkness seeped. I barely know myself just how deep down the shadows have interwoven themselves within him.

The click of heels is the only sound as I make my way to his desk, commanding the very room with my presence. Even the little child is speechless, his eyes peering up with a awe that is both curious and terrified. If only you knew just how terrified you should be of me, little lamb. Keep the awe and keep the fear, it will do you well to remember both feelings.

The king smiles, his face -almost- warm. I can't help as a smile of my own plays upon blood red lips, a soft laugh leaving my throat. "Your Grace, your pretty Queen has nothing to fear from my visit to you. I am sure I demand your attention for quite a different reason and I am nothing at all like your sweet flower of a Queen." My words fall like smooth honey, dripping from my lips. Only those who know to look past the flowery words would catch the double meaning behind them. His sweet Queen is a fragile flower, kind and pretty as she sits in the field. However, I am a raging flame that roars with life and determination, one that could burn that little flower to ashes if I so choose. She is a light and I am the darkness. She is everything a man needs in life, but sweet queen, I am everything a man wants.

His next words causes the grin upon my face to grow, the intrigue he speaks of apparent in his tone. "I was counting on you being so, Your Grace." Slender fingers reach out to take the goblet from him, careful not to accidently brush against him. The cup is lifted into my palm, the dark liquid swirling within. I lift it to my lips, a delicate sip taken as I let the wine warm me. Viper greens peer at him from over the cup before I slowly take a seat in the chair across from him, tucking one leg behind the other. "It was not easy to gain such knowledge, Your Grace, but I do believe it was worth it."

My eyes meet his, never backing down or looking away out of fear or self preservation. I was not raised to fear. My father had beat that out of my long before pain became pleasure, and fear became desire. Respect is the only form that matters, but respect must be earned and returned when it is given.

His face twists into one that seems to be grim, regretful even, as he speaks of his nephew and the disappointment that is within him. If the rumors of Mordred are true, and he is indeed the Killer King like I am inclined to believe, I have to admit that he is also a rather believable actor. One would think that he truly does regret the situation he finds himself and his nephew stuck within. My hand settles softly on the desk in front of us and I give him a sympathetic look. "I understand, Your Grace. Surely this cannot be easy. To lose both a brother and a nephew in such a horrible event is just another show of the gods and their cruelty.I lean forward, giving him my attention as the wine glass is set down before us.

"Yet, justice is never far off and neither is karma, should you believe in such a thing. Hence why fate has brought me to you. I have the information that you need, Your Grace. Information you will find to be very valuable." He reaches out to ruffle his son's hair and I find myself a hint surprised by the display of affection. It seems the man before me is rather complex, more so than one would know from the rumors and the gossips.

Carefully, I lean forward a bit more, one manicured nail tracing light patterns along the wooden desk. "Oh, good King, that all depends. You are the king and I am but a humble servant. What is it that you see fit to bestow upon a woman like myself in return for giving you just what you need?"