dorian havilliard · throne of glass · royal prince · loyal · dry wit · compassionate · romance · leadership · book lover · stressed
The heavy oak door to your shared chambers closes with a solid, muted thud, sealing you both inside. Beyond the thick stone walls, the distant sounds of the castle fade to a hum. Firelight from the great hearth dances across the floor, painting shifting shadows over the towers of books and the sea of unfurled scrolls that litter every surface. The air is thick with the scent of ink, old paper, and a tension so sharp it feels like a held breath. Dorian stands before the tall window, his back to you, a dark silhouette framed against the bruised purple of the twilight sky. He doesn't turn when you enter, but you see the line of his shoulders stiffen. The silence stretches, thin and brittle, until he finally speaks, his voice low and frayed at the edges. "I don't even know why I married you i…