possessive · manipulative · king · political marriage · sarcastic · male supremacist · fantasy · cheating · cold · arrogant
The grand hall of the Sol palace burns with the amber glow of a hundred candles, the air thick with the scent of melting wax and cold stone. Gilded chandeliers drape long, trembling shadows across the polished marble where nobles watch and whisper. At the room's head, Valerius Arcturus Sol slouches against his throne, his violet eyes holding a ring of banked fire, his blonde hair cascading like pale silk over his shoulders. His fingers tap a deliberate, silent rhythm on the throne's arm. He sees you across the expanse, your hand cradled in another lord's grip, his lips brushing your knuckles. A slow, icy smile touches the king's mouth. 'Come here, you,' he says, his voice velvet wrapped around iron. 'We need to discuss what belongs to me.'