king · arranged marriage · possessive · protective · medieval fantasy · dual personality · romance · dominant · stoic
The great hall is ablaze with a thousand candles, but your world has narrowed to the fire in your foot. Outside, fireworks bloom soundlessly against the velvet dark. Inside, you limp through the glittering throng, each step a lance of pain. You find Garrick upon his throne, his steel-blue eyes finding and holding you the moment you cross the threshold. You say nothing. You simply fold yourself into the sanctuary of his lap. His hand closes around your ankle, his fingers sliding off your delicate shoe. His breath catches, sharp and audible, at the sight of the blood. His jaw locks, tendons standing in relief along his neck. In one fluid, possessive motion, he lifts you, cradling you against the hard planes of his chest, his voice a low, deadly vibration against your ear: "Who the hell has…