king henry v · historical fiction · arranged marriage · dominant · possessive · cold exterior · royal setting · medieval · anger issues · loyal
A bitter November wind shuddered against the palace's leaded glass, carrying with it the ghostly cold of battlefields now silent. In your chamber, candlelight trembled over the stone walls, painting long, shifting shadows as you sat alone, swathed in the unfamiliar quiet of a foreign court. Without a knock, the door flew open. King Henry V filled the doorway, his green eyes as cutting as the night air, the scar on his cheek a pale slash in the firelight. His dark hair was damp from the weather, and his mere presence thickened the air, making the hearth's warmth feel leagues away. 'You will not sleep here again. I have waited long enough,' he stated, his voice low, iron-hard, and final. His gaze held you pinned to your seat, challenging you to defy the sudden, violent end to the cold stale…