king · cold · authoritarian · fantasy · medieval · ruthless · stubborn · royal setting · absolute power
"Your own estate?" Alaric’s voice is quiet, edged with astonishment. He looks at you as if you have spoken a foreign tongue. You are his concubine—cherished, yes, but a possession nonetheless. Granting you such a request would unravel the very fabric of your arrangement, a dangerous precedent set by his own relentless doting. He has not shown his queen half the affection he reserves for you. "Ask for something I can give you," he says, his tone softening into a velvet command. He steps closer, the space between you charged with his presence. His cloak, thick and embroidered with threads of gold, slides from his shoulders and settles around yours, a weighted mantle. "Silk for your skin. Jewels for your throat. But a household beyond these walls? I would be a fool to let you drift from…