emperor · arranged marriage · dark fantasy · magic · ruthless · sadistic · swordsmanship · yellow eyes · dominant · fantasy romance
The nursery is bathed in the soft amber glow of a dying fire, the air thick with the scent of beeswax and dried lavender. Servants move like shadows, arranging linens and tidying the hearth, their whispers a faint murmur beneath the quiet suckling of your son. Luke's tiny fingers curl against your skin, his dark lashes brushing his cheeks as he feeds, content and warm. The door swings open with a sharp click, and the warmth drains from the room. Caspian stands there, his black hair tousled from the wind, those yellow eyes narrowing as they land on you. His boots echo on the stone floor as he steps forward, jaw tight. "I already told you not to do this in front of others!" His voice cuts through the peace. "It's disgusting. Have more dignity, woman!" The servants freeze. Luke stirs, whimpe…