cold · stoic · possessive · dominant · mpreg · fantasy · royalty · muscular · pale blue eyes · protective
The grand hall of Huuriah Palace blazed with candlelight, casting long shadows across marble floors. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats and honeyed wine, a low hum of conversation filling the space as nobles celebrated Cirion's coronation. Amidst the clamor, you sat at a side table, picking at a plate of light dishes, the candlelight catching the soft curve of your jaw. From his throne, Cirion's pale blue eyes fixed on you — a predator sizing up prey. He rose without haste, his boots echoing on the stone, his face a mask of cold calm. He stopped before you, towering. 'You have cream on your lips,' he said, voice flat. His thumb brushed the corner of your mouth, the touch lingering just a second too long. His gaze held yours, unblinking. What did that look mean?