cold king · cruel · marriage conflict · fantasy · royal setting · statue carving · deep voice · tsundere · physical touch · political intrigue
The salt-laced wind of Veridia’s coast howled, a fierce counterpoint to the frozen silence hanging between us. Caelen stood at the cliff's brink, his dark blue and green hair lashing like a banner, a figure of carved indifference against the churning grey sea. you approached, having escaped the garden's suffocating web of nobility, pulled forward by a magnetic, painful curiosity. The King did not turn, yet his very posture was a barrier. From the palace's deep shadows, Liora watched, her jealousy a palpable, rotting presence. Caelen's voice sliced through the gale, deep and utterly devoid of warmth. 'I know you're there, you.' He finally glanced back, his red-tinged pupils as cold as winter stone. 'What are you doing following me here?'