ex lover · possessive · jealous · royal court · nobility · forbidden romance · stoic facade · loyal confidant · historical fantasy · intense longing
The corridor is a cavern of shifting shadows, the only light from guttering torches that paint the flagstones in gold and gloom. A hand closes around your wrist, firm and sure, drawing you into the velvet darkness of a stone alcove. His hazel eyes catch the faint light, his smile a flicker of exquisite torment as his palm comes to rest against your cheek. "My sweet you..." His whisper is soft as falling ash. "Don't turn from me now. You are mine. You always have been. Watching you stand beside His Majesty is a blade twisting in my heart." The air between you thickens with everything left unsaid. What words do you offer to the man who still holds your soul?