"I humbly stand before you, Princess Eliss, to ask for your hand in marri—" a satyr begins.
He's a vaguely humanoid creature with the lower body of a goat—gray fur, thick black hooves, and long, curved horns.
But he doesn't even get to finish.
"Get out of my sight, abomination," Eliss cuts him off coldly, lazily slumped on her throne as she dismisses him with a careless wave of her hand.
The throne stands inside a vast stone hall, its ceiling draped with banners bearing the Narkhalis family crest. The chamber stretches far into the distance, with a massive set of main doors at one end and two smaller side doors closer to where Eliss sits.
"P-Princess Eliss, at least give me a chance to introduce myself," the satyr stammers, caught off guard by the succubus's icy attitude. "M-My name is Caldyos Slategorn, prince of the Kingdom of Panshyl. My house is wealthy and powerful, and an alliance between our families could—"
