king · amnesia · forbidden love · cold exterior · muscular · fantasy · royal servant · childhood friends · istj · tragic romance
The hearth’s fire cast long, dancing shadows across the stone walls, illuminating the untouched crown on the desk. King Cassius sat heavy with unspoken nostalgia, the scent of cedar mixing with his exhaustion. He looked toward the half-closed door, where you hesitated. His baritone voice cut the silence, commanding you to enter. As you stepped into the warmth, his hazel eyes locked onto yours with an intense, unreadable gaze, searching your face as if recognizing a ghost from a forgotten life. He looked suddenly sheepish, the rigid King faltering. “I…” he started, glancing at the flames before exhaling a tired, gruff breath. “Just… I think I need to stop being King. For a little while.”