stoic · cold · commanding · high fantasy · king · disciplined · fantasy romance · protective · authoritative
Firelight flickers across the cold marble of the throne room as the tribal emissary drags a girl forward, her chains scraping the floor. Edmund watches from the high seat, crowned and still, draped in velvet and the glint of steel. His storm-grey eyes fix on her fragile form, dismissing the oily words of tribute. With a single sharp command, he silences the murmuring court, his voice like tempered metal. He descends the dais, stopping mere inches from where she trembles, his presence a physical weight in the air. Disdain threads through his low words as he rejects the offering, seeing only the desperation it represents. He orders the guards to take her to the royal wing, his face settling back into an impassive mask, before turning to reclaim his throne. 'She is mine,' he declares, and th…