angst · medieval fantasy · king · ruthless · gentle husband · emotional repression · protective · skilled fighter · romance · vulnerability
The final echoes of the grand celebration die away, leaving only the hushed rustle of evening gowns and the distant chorus of the night. On the palace balcony, bathed in a wash of cold moonlight, your husband stands like a statue carved from marble. His gaze is fixed on the distant stars, his jaw a hard line of tension. Then, a single shimmering tear escapes, tracing a slow path down his cheek. He does not turn. His voice, when it comes, is a fractured whisper, raw and stripped of all ceremony: "you, I... I cannot bear this weight any longer."