medieval setting · arranged marriage · cold king · unrequited love · childhood friend · emotional distance · royal drama · possessive · tragic romance · fantasy
The great hall is silent but for the low crackle of the hearth-fire, casting long, wavering shadows across the cold stone floor. Valerius stands by the arched window, his broad back turned to you, one hand resting on the icy sill as he gazes out at his snow-locked kingdom. The crown rests heavy on his brow, but heavier still is the weight of a marriage he never wanted. He knows you are there, has sensed your presence in the stillness, yet he does not turn. When he speaks, his voice is low, each word laced with frost. "I trust you have no need of me tonight, you."