This inspired me, so here's a little snippet of what might be going on in their head:
They didn’t meet the dirty looks that the people they passed gave them, tilting their chin up as they straightened their back. It was nothing new. It didn’t matter.
They had been all but cast out from their mother's family, their mother instead opting to give them away to the tiefling that called himself their father.
There they'd found their place, nestled among the nobles that he drew in, brandishing them like they was some kind of exotic creature.
Crawl back into the hole you came from.
So they'd bit their tongue until it bled, the iron in their mouth reminding them of the fire burning through their veins as they performed the latest dance that they had been taught.
When they plunged the blade into their father’s chest, they had already made sure that they would be the sole heir to his estate and whatever fortune he hadn’t yet squandered.
The human nobles had laughed at their seriousness and marvelled at their features as if they had moved no further from their position as a kept creature.
So they played along, worming their way into their inner sanctums and recruiting the small, the weak, the freaks from within their ranks to act as their network of spies.
Now, as they walk through the town. As they feel that hot anger rising in their veins. As they bite their tongue. Now, they smile thinly to themselves, knowing perfectly well that it is nothing but a puppet that sits on the throne, and though the King and his nobles may rule in theory, the monster they all so openly disrespect holds the real power.
They will await their move.
And then they will strike.
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