Turn about

Those unrelenting, defiant amber eyes were just like her Father’s- slightly narrowed, not out of anger, but clear, resolute intensity, swirling with determination and resistance. The conveyance of her refusal to back down, an expression of stubborn resolve, the impression of mental fortitude. Sephiran was familiar with that look.

But a child, especially one her age, could not truly possess these traits. Fear was an innate sense, gifted to them at birth; it would serve as a guide in her early months of life, as she would struggle to learn her place in the hierarchy.

No matter how steadfast she appeared, how unbreakable she may have seen herself. Sephiran had a way of worming beneath the skin of others, of imprinting himself on their brains and festering in their being until there was nothing left. Aurelia. Aurelia. Aurelia. Children were not spared. Nor his family. In Sephiran’s world, every creature was at risk of becoming a victim to fear.

“Araxina.” He says, rolling her name across his tongue, tasting it, savoring it. “Araxina Praetor-Inferos.” There’s an emphasis on her surname as it drips from his maw; a patronizing quality that dismisses its importance. Because she is not a Saxe. “Mmm, Zagan.” He croons, paws shuffling beneath him, his tail lashing out as he begins to slowly circle the girl- analyzing her, taking in every inch, forming an assessment that he would commit to memory. "He is ‘purple’, like me.” A short pause, as a cocks a brow at her.“Because he is my son.” If her resolve kept her planted in place, Sephiran would have completed a full circle by now. “And do you know who I am, Araxina?” His tone suddenly grows sharper, his voice higher and more clipped. There is a flash of sharp teeth, his lips curling inward, as he takes on a smile devoid of warmth.

Absinth, in all of her Motherly glory, had sworn to protect her children- assumably, she taught them who their Sultan was?

"Sephiran Saxe"