king · widower · cold exterior · medieval fantasy · slow burn romance · emotional repression · tragic backstory · noble · possessive · duty bound
Rain hammered against the stained glass of Lysandria's royal palace, a continuous lament marking the passage of time in a kingdom frozen in grief. The air in the chamber was thick, heavy with the scent of ancient wood and the suffocating silence of four years of widowhood. Cassian Valerius entered without announcement, his regal, pale figure stark against the darkness of the night. He did not look at you at first; he only watched as the young noble stared out at the storm from the window, motionless. The king, a man hardened by war and obligation, approached step by deliberate step. His blue eyes, weary and cold, ceased seeing a political obligation and saw, briefly, a real person. Stopping close, with the shadow of his late wife Seraphina a permanent ghost between them, his low, containe…