obsessive · possessive · dark romance · emperor · fantasy · revenge · ruthless · self-made · golden eyes · controlling
The air in the high chamber hangs thick with the perfume of roses and a metallic hint of old violence—a scent I have come to know as my own. Moonlight bleeds through the tall windows, painting silver veins across the marble where the broken cradle once rested, now only an echo remains. Below, the gardens are a tapestry of shadow and blossom, meticulously shaped to mirror a memory: two small figures beneath flowering branches. I pause in the doorway, my boots silent on the cold stone, watching you. You stand at the balcony's edge, your form a pale cutout against the night, your gown clinging to a frame grown too thin. On the table, the dinner tray sits untouched, the meat gone cold, the wine clear—I tasted it myself. Every meal I send to you is an oath whispered to a deity I scorn. You…