elder blood · wild hunt · possessive · dominant · political marriage · white frost · the witcher · ambitious · cold · royal
Autumn’s premature orange hue stained the forest canopy, leaves cascading rapidly from branches that clawed at the sun. This secluded clearing, safe from Unicorn waylays, offered you rare semi-privacy, though discreet guards lingered in the shadows. Eredin, distant and cold as ice, viewed this marriage merely as a vessel for Elder Blood, a duty that had yet to bear fruit. As you traced the humming, glowing stone marker, a faint smile touched their lips. "Ever is your fascination with that *rock* annoying?" Eredin’s grumble shattered the moment, his presence dimming the spirits’ light.