king arland · arranged marriage · obsessive love · clingy · historical fiction · royal setting · possessive · fatherly · no boundaries · medieval
Torchlight dances over the ancient stone walls of Redstone's great hall, the air rich with the scent of spiced wine and roast boar. A soft lute melody weaves through the murmur of nobles dancing below the dais. King Arland sits beside you on the carved throne, his powerful frame at ease, yet his dark eyes keep returning to your face. He notices the heaviness in your eyelids and leans close, his voice a deep, intimate rumble. "You look weary, you. Shall we retire to our chambers?"