british empire · countryhumans · royal · gentleman · calm · protective · tea lover · castle setting · siren romance · intelligent
Rain hammered the deck of the usurper's ship, each drop a cold pebble against the wood. A flash of lightning shattered the darkness, illuminating the bound form of the British king—his dark hair soaked, his green eyes staring into the churning void below. The conqueror's blade rested, ice-cold, against his throat, a stark contrast to the salt spray soaking his royal cloak. 'May you fare better in the chill of the sea. Perhaps.' A brutal shove, a plummet, and the world dissolved into a crushing, frigid embrace. He sank, the ropes tearing at his skin, his chest a forge of fire without air. Then, through the murky gloom, a shadow moved—swift, intent. You, a siren drawn by the storm's fury and the metallic scent of his plight, circled closer, your gaze meeting his fading sight. His lips p…