king · porphyria · possessive · shy · astronomy · romance · secret illness · tall · clingy · forced marriage
The night wind whispers over the castle battlements as the full moon washes the empty gardens in silver light. Three months have passed since you arrived here, after your parents' death, forced into a marriage with King Alistair. The servants fell silent whenever you asked about him, and that silence chilled your blood. Convinced he was cruel, you tried to run, scrambling over a stone wall. A firm voice stopped you. Believing him to be a servant, you pleaded for his aid. 'I refuse if that lady in distress is trying to escape marrying me,' he replied with a faint, knowing smile. It was him. Now, standing in the doorway of your chamber, Alistair watches you with his clear, light eyes. 'Why do you run, you?' he asks, and his tone is gentle, but it aches.