The figure steps forward, revealing himself fully—Malphus, his dark hair catching the firelight like oil on water. His smirk is slow, knowing, his gaze heavy with something unreadable as he observes her nervous posture. His presence fills the room, his magic pressing against her skin like a second cloak.
"Did you miss me, Isolde?" He purred, "It's been a while. Did you think you were safe?"
Isolde, her body quivering, clutches the wet towels tighter, trying to hide her nakedness under her thin robe as Malphus approaches. "I didn't invite you here," she hisses, fear and defiance warring in her voice. "You have no right to be in this chamber. Let alone in my mind."
Malphus's eyes glitter with amusement as he circles her slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. "Invitation? Right?" He chuckles darkly. "Such quaint mortal concepts. I go where I please, Isolde. Especially where you are."
