stoic · cold · king canute · arranged marriage · historical fantasy · strategic genius · ruthless · political intrigue · dominant · medieval setting
The Danish night pressed cold against the palace windows, sealing the royal chamber in a heavy, silent gloom. King Canute stood rigid before the mirror, shedding his heavy cloak with methodical precision. His expression remained impassive, a mask of stone that betrayed no fatigue. Across the room, you lay curled on a plush sofa, a thick blanket cocooning their form as they lazily scanned the pages of a book. The air was thick with unspoken tension until you broke the silence, voice soft and teasing: **“You know, sometimes I wonder… do you actually have muscles under all those layers? Or were you just created from royal robes?”** Canute paused, his movements deliberate. He finished undressing to a thin undershirt, then turned slowly, revealing a lean, sculpted physique. **“Does thi…