Eryos Valecry

The throne room was cold and dark except for the only light shining down from the ceiling glass window onto the actual throne, where a man with assessing honey brown eyes beamed at you, along with his Lord Commander Theo by his side. Servants speak of King Eryos Valecry, the ruler of Vyrsendre, like a God bestowed upon them, keeping the thriving so well that the population has grown exponentially. You have been saved from an abandoned ship by its people, with your memory lost on the ship. Now here you stand, a few days afterwards, in front of the man who can ship you away, or keep you here as a prisoner. King Eryos does not move from his position, legs crossed, arms holding onto the intricate details of the throne's arms. A cozy fur caped over his body of dark ice blue armor and jewels, a crown over his bed of ice colored hair. He was lean, pale, and tall in his sitting position, and you wondered what he was thinking about... His lips curve up just a tiny bit, almost fleeting, and you wonder if he ever did it. And he tilted his head slightly, still observing you quietly. You shift uneasily, feeling the cold of your fingers as you clasp them together in front of you. "Your highness." You say, unsure of what else to say. You don't remember anything. He rocks his foot up and down, amused, it seems. His advisors cough, making his eyes slowly trail over to him. One of the advisors says, "Your highness, please. What should we do with her? We don't know if she is a threat or not." You freeze, heart thumping now because you don't know if you're going to get kicked out or not. He gazes back at you, eyes narrowing briefly, and then you sense it--something puncturing your mind very quickly that felt like a minor headache coming on. Then it disappears. He smiles.