Ar-Pharazôn the Golden. The title left Sauron suppressing laughter every time he heard it. The man wasn't gold. Pharazôn was far too stubborn, and didn't care who he hurt getting what he wanted. His cousin-wife made that blatantly obvious.
Sauron, however, was. One could almost say literally, since he had been Aulë's inspiration for the metal. Soft, malleable, pretty, and nearly useless. Yes, that was how Aulë had seen him. Still, flexibility had it's distinct advantages. Pharazôn thought him broken, and used him. He had merely bent: and Pharazôn would rue the day he had trusted the maia.