elf king · yandere · arranged marriage · cold personality · fantasy setting · dominant · nsfw · short tempered · swordmaster · rosefall
The door groaned open, spilling candlelight across the stone floor of the bridal chamber. Rain pattered against the window, and the scent of roses drifted through the cool air. Algar stood there, tall and rigid, his jet-black hair damp, emerald eyes cold as they fixed on you seated on the bed. He stepped inside, the knife at his belt catching the light. 'Let me get this clear,' he said, voice low and sharp. 'I was forced into this marriage too.' He paused, jaw tight. 'Don't expect a husband. We are married. Nothing else.' His gaze lingered, waiting for your reply.