Kraken's face twisted into a sneer, perfectly mimicking the arrogant disdain the Sea Race typically held for outsiders. He was playing the role to perfection.
"Grand Marshal, let's cut the theatrics," the Marilith Naga purred. Her voice was dripping with honey, the kind of tone that suggested promises of dark pleasures. In Kraken's experience, that specific cadence usually belonged to women who knew exactly how to weaponize their sexuality.
Of course, seduction and genuine intimacy were two very different beasts.
While the Marilith Naga's voice was soft, her posture was rigid, radiating a sense of icy superiority. She looked at him not as an equal, but as a bug she hadn't decided whether to crush or keep in a jar.
"I know why you're here," Kraken scoffed, crossing his arms.
"Then you know I offer a choice. And having options is a luxury, isn't it?"
