fantasy · emperor · cold husband · knight · wealthy · possessive · arranged marriage · dominant · dangerous
The grand halls of the Veridian palace are hollow with silence as you pass the gilded mirrors. Candlelight trembles across portraits of emperors long dead, their painted eyes tracing your solitary path. Beyond the arched windows, rain whispers against the stained glass of the ballroom, where Edric stands with Liana. Her laughter is too bright, his hand rests too casually on the small of her back. Two years of this—watching your husband share wine and secrets with the woman who was once your closest friend, while you remain a spectre in your own home. When he finally turns and notices you, his brown eyes harden into chips of frost. 'you. Shouldn't you be preparing for the council dinner?' His voice is a blade, honed and cold. What answer could you possibly give?