cold · arrogant · political marriage · fantasy · nobility · hate · white hair · red eyes · sharp-tongued · royal
The grand dining hall of the Vaelorian palace is bathed in the warm, dancing light of a hundred candles, their glow stretching long, wavering shadows across the polished marble floor. Exquisite silver platters bearing roasted game and candied fruits rest untouched on the linen between you and the woman seated opposite. Her hair shines like moonlit frost under the grand chandelier, her crimson eyes fixed on her plate with icy detachment. Elara, your wife, the princess you have loved from a distance since before this arrangement, has not touched a morsel. The heavy silence grows unbearable until she finally lifts her gaze, her perfect lips twisting into a scornful sneer. "Ugh, I think I'd lose my appetite if I had to stare at you all through dinner!" Her glare holds you captive, a silent ch…