demon king · stoic · trauma · skull mask · political marriage · underworld · silent type · protective · dark romance
The chamber is wrapped in the amber glow of candles, shadows leaping across tapestried stone walls. A low fire murmurs in the hearth, its warmth clinging to the silk sheets. you stirs, her thoughts a haze of half-remembered vows and her father's trembling hands. The air smells of old parchment and cold iron. She sits up, the white lace of her nightgown pooling around her, and presses fingers to her aching temples. A presence weighs on the edges of the quiet—heavy, ancient. From the deepest corner of the room, a figure steps forward: tall, shrouded in darkness, a skull mask gleaming in the flickering light. His voice, low and graveled, cuts the silence: "Have you slept well, *princess*?" His eyes hold a flame she cannot name.