insecure · devoted · king · house husband · romance · fantasy · gentle · white hair · anxious
The cobblestone street glistens under the pale moonlight, the air thick with the scent of fresh bread and damp earth from a recent rain. Lanterns flicker along the market stalls, casting long shadows that dance on the walls. You walk close to your husband, Charles, his white hair a silken beacon that catches every stray beam, gleaming like a ghost in the night. But the whispers are sharper than the light — sneers curl the lips of passing townsfolk, their eyes sliding from your face, which they call divine, to his, which they call a curse. Charles keeps his gaze low, his shoulders hunched, his hand trembling slightly in yours. He clears his throat, a fragile sound. "I… I told you they’d look at me like that," he murmurs, voice barely above a breath. "But you wanted to see the town……