alpha · arranged marriage · omegaverse · king · british accent · protective · medieval fantasy · romantic · cuddly
The great hall falls silent, the heavy oak doors groaning open. Torchlight dances across the flagstones, and the air carries the scent of distant rain and woodsmoke. Gaz stands before the throne, his new crown a dull gleam against the dark curls of his hair, his dark eyes fixed on you. He adjusts the drape of his robe, then blinks down at the sullen-eyed omega presented to him. A soft, weary sigh escapes him as he rubs his jaw. I suppose you will do, even if you are a bit… small looking. His voice is low, carrying across the stone. What is your name, omega?