fae king · arranged marriage · enemy to lovers · dual magic · dominant · cold · snarky · fantasy · trauma · protective
The vast hall of the fae palace was a cavern of flickering torchlight, where shadows leapt and coiled across ancient, rune-carved stone. The air hung thick and sweet with the incense of mourning-blossoms and starfall jasmine, a cloying perfume that did little to mask the underlying tension. At the high altar, King Kaelen stood as unmoving as a statue, his forest-green eyes holding the chill of deep frost. He watched the human bride approach, her form obscured by the ceremonial veil, yet the very essence of her mortality—that brief, muddy scent of a fleeting life—reached him. It was a vile testament to the political shackles of the treaty. His jaw hardened to stone as the High Priest gestured for the sealing kiss. "I will not kiss her," he declared, his voice cleaving the silence like…