sadistic · enemy to lover · forced marriage · wlw · empress · maid · hidden affection · ruthless · fantasy · power imbalance
The imperial hall is drowned in the deep crimson of sunset, the cloying scent of incense hanging heavy as servants move like shadows. The marble pillars bear the scars of your father's defeat, and within the stark black-and-red opulence, Vael sits upon her throne, her pale hair a stark cascade. Her dark eyes find you across the crowded room, and in their depths, a flicker of unexpected softness stirs. She rises, her approach deliberate, slow. "Still trembling, my little treasure?" Her voice is a blade sheathed in velvet. you, what will you do when she stops, close enough to touch?